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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23033257">Kurt's Moderately Annoying Playlist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowcookedvig/pseuds/slowcookedvig'>slowcookedvig</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Playlist-verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, cheesy Blaine, snarky Kurt, warning - canonical deaths in backstory, warning - non-canonical deaths in backstory</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:40:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23033257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowcookedvig/pseuds/slowcookedvig</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every now and then, Kurt hears people break out in song to express their innermost feelings. He has always assumed that it's just a side effect of sharing an apartment with Rachel Berry, or maybe an aftereffect of years of high school Glee Club. But then there's this cute guy who starts singing these amazingly cheesy songs... and Kurt's the only one who hears him.</p><p>(Plot device inspired by Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry &amp; Kurt Hummel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Playlist-verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hello, hello</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's this cute guy. And he sings in public. And nobody hears it except Kurt.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>Your Song (Elton John: https://youtu.be/GlPlfCy1urI)<br/>Hello, Goodbye (The Beatles: https://youtu.be/rblYSKz_VnI)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's surprising, how long it takes for Kurt to recognize the weirdness.</p><p>Or maybe not. True, he isn't actively doing music anymore himself, but he's still surrounded by it. He is, after all, writing a music criticism blog, in addition to his day job as a fashion writer. And yes, in fact, his blog is at least as snarky as his fashion writing. Kurt is quite proud of it, of the way his voice has developed and sharpened, until it's like a scalpel dipped in acid.</p><p>Ugh. He mentally erases that over-the-top simile. Begone, crappy writing.</p><p>But in addition to the blog - or maybe tangentially related to the blog - Kurt is still rooming with Rachel Berry. Former high school Glee Club star, future Broadway diva. Also, current singing waitress at the Spotlight Diner. They've shared an apartment for ten years now, and although Rachel still hasn't landed any big roles, she sings. Like, all the time. And of course, before that, they were in high school, with friends who were prone to breaking out in song at any moment, going through every breakup and reconciliation and love quadrilateral in multipart harmony. Usually with backup dancers.</p><p>Kurt doesn't sing about those kinds of things himself, not anymore. His love life is private. Ok, nonexistent. But Rachel understands. They know enough of each other’s pain that they don’t need to talk about it. Or sing about it. So Rachel sings about trouble getting work, but not about her fathers’ divorce, and she doesn’t push Kurt to sing about the cancers that took his mother when he was young, and his father during their first year in New York. And neither of them talks about losing a step-brother or an ex-boyfriend. The pain is shared, and understood, and put carefully away.</p><p>But there are days when the pain can't stay in its box. Like tonight. It's the anniversary of the day they heard about Finn, and Rachel just got through with a call-back for a role that she wants. It's a supporting role, fairly small, but it would be a start. Kurt knows why all of this is hard for her, so when she suggests going out to some bar to hear a band that she's heard about, he immediately agrees. And when they get home, both completely drunk, Rachel takes away his laptop, so he can't write about the music. Kurt hadn't heard the band before tonight, and has no context for writing about them, but he would have eviscerated them online without a second thought, just for the pleasure of the sharpness of the words. In the morning, he can't even remember what type of music they played. Rachel gives him back his laptop with a knowing smile, and they go on with their day.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel doesn't hear back about the role for several days. But on Friday night, there's a rumor that the casting has been decided, so Kurt goes to the Spotlight Diner for dinner. It's one of their unspoken rituals, enacted every time Rachel waits to hear about a part. Most times, the news is bad, and it's hard for Rachel to be alone when she has to go on waiting tables full of actors and directors. So Kurt sits at the counter, orders a salad with grilled chicken, and chats with Rachel every time she has a spare minute. And if she gets a call or text, and her face falls... well, then Kurt will order pie, and then decaf, and ask to have his water refilled, and pretty much distract her as much as she needs it.</p><p>Tonight starts like any other night at the diner. Rachel brings him a glass of water and a menu, and then goes to check on one of her other tables. There are a lot of people there, and they look like they all know her. So maybe they are all waiting for the same call. Kurt gets a salad, then chats with Rachel about his day. Nothing major, just a few barbed comments about the atrocious work done by one of the currently popular designers. Snarking at Rachel is a good way for Kurt to take the edge off of his professional writing. Yes, he has a reputation for being harsh, but if he's too nasty, Vogue will have trouble with its advertisers. The goal is to have enough of an edge to be entertaining, but not to be so pointed that he drives away business. Which is why Kurt keeps the music criticism to his blog, where he can mock cheesy, maudlin lyrics to his heart's content.</p><p>There is a sound on the stage, and Kurt looks up. It's one of the diners, not the wait staff. The guy is kind of cute, in an artsy, disheveled way. Dark, curly hair. Expressive eyebrows above eyes that are just a tiny bit lighter than one would expect. Not startling, but compelling. The kind of eyes that you would feel staring at you. Or that you would stare back at.</p><p>The cute guy sits at the piano and starts to play.</p><p><em>It's a little bit funny </em><br/><em>this feeling inside</em> <em><br/>I'm not one of those who can easily hide...</em></p><p>The guy is as theatrical as one might expect, singing Elton John at a grand piano in a diner for Broadway fans. Goofy show faces. As much acting as possible, given that his hands are busy on the keyboard.</p><p>Rachel refills Kurt's water and stands in front of him for a moment. And that's when Kurt realizes that the cute guy is looking straight at them, right at him and Rachel, all show-biz sincerity, singing his heart out to them.</p><p><em>And you can tell everybody this is your song</em> <em><br/>It may be quite simple but now that it's done<br/>I hope you don't mind<br/>I hope you don't mind<br/>That I put down in words<br/>How wonderful life is while you're in the world</em></p><p>It's cheesy. It's over the top. And it's at Rachel's workplace, which means that Kurt will never, ever write about it.</p><p>Kurt smiles politely until the song is finished.</p><p>And then Rachel's phone rings. Kurt waves her off - really, after all this time Rachel should know that Kurt will happily wait to order until she's ready to deal with the news - and turns his attention to the pie case. What's the best option to deal with rejection today? There's a strawberry pie with giant piles of whipped cream, drizzled with chocolate. That might do...</p><p>The shriek that breaks Kurt's concentration is LOUD. And unexpectedly joyous. And it comes from Rachel.</p><p>"I got it!!!" she screams. "I got it <em>I got it</em> I GOT IT!!!!"</p><p>Maybe it isn't quite as loud as it sounds to Kurt. After all, he's the one getting hugged and shaken as Rachel runs around the counter, grabs him, and bounces. The other patrons don't seem that distracted. Shouldn't they be giving her a standing ovation, or something, after all this time? But the big group in the middle of the diner is looking at their own phones. The cute guy from the piano is there, tucked into the back of one of the big booths. He's talking on the phone... and then he breaks out in a huge smile, and the others are clapping his shoulders.</p><p>"Excuse me," Rachel says, and gives him one more hug before she runs over to the big group and starts chattering with the cute guy. And then Rachel has to sing, of course, as well as bring dessert for the big group and pasta for an elderly couple and late-night breakfast for the college students in the corner booth.</p><p>Kurt slips out before Rachel's shift is done. Tonight, for once, she doesn't need to be comforted. Kurt is happy for her, he thinks, as he takes the long subway ride home.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel's role isn't that big, but there are still rehearsals. Rehearsals, plus shifts at the diner, keep her busy enough that Kurt doesn't see much of her. (And when she's around, she's reading the next section of the script or singing in the shower.) So they plan to have coffee downtown, somewhere between Rachel's rehearsal spot and the vogue.com office suite.</p><p>Kurt is the first one there, so he orders his coffee and snags a table. He's looking forward to the gossip, because of <em>course</em> there will be gossip. This is Rachel, and Broadway, and Kurt is looking forward to living vicariously through the glamorous life of a star. Or at least, to teasing Rachel about how she has been promising glamour and gossip for ten years now.</p><p>She glides through the doorway, readier to command a room than she has been since the NYADA teachers cut her down to size during her first year. But she isn't alone. There's a guy with her, a guy who doesn't tower over her like most men do. He looks vaguely familiar. Neat dark hair (with maybe a bit too much gel in it), blue pea coat, scarf. It's only when the guy glances towards Kurt's table that Kurt recognizes him. Those compelling eyes, just a shade lighter than Kurt expects. It's Cute Guy, the one who sang at the diner.</p><p>Rachel finally sees Kurt and waves. "Kurt!" She leads Cute Guy over to his table. "I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend. This is Blaine Anderson. He's playing opposite me in the show, and he said that he needed some caffeine, so I invited him to come along."</p><p>Blaine smiles and extends a hand.</p><p>"Kurt Hummel," Kurt says. "Since Rachel hasn't mastered the fine art of complete introductions."</p><p>"Don't be silly, I told him we would be meeting you," Rachel replies. "He knows who you are."</p><p>"Sorry to intrude," Blaine apologizes. "I'll stand in line for coffee so the two of you can have some time talking."</p><p>"It's fine," Kurt says.</p><p>Rachel rattles off her coffee order. Blaine repeats it back, then goes to stand in line. Kurt watches Blaine for a moment longer, then turns his attention back to Rachel's stories. He doesn't know all of the names of the understudies and director's assistants, but he can file them into categories based on the gossip. The Jealous Girl. The Excessively Competent Assistant. The Egotistical Jerk. And so forth. The vogue.com office has them, too. It's nice to know that Kurt hasn't actually missed much in the way of Drama since getting rejected by NYADA and giving up his own Broadway dreams.</p><p>Blaine coughs from behind Rachel. She doesn't notice, but Kurt looks up at him, and he smiles and hands Kurt his coffee. "Americano, no cream or sugar?"</p><p>Kurt nods. Part of growing up involved stripping things to their essence, getting rid of the unnecessary sweetness. He had been a latte kid, but he is now an Americano adult.</p><p>"Ours are going to take a little longer," Blaine says to Rachel.</p><p>Rachel scoots over to make room for him. "Grab a chair and sit with us, please," she says. "Kurt, guess where Blaine grew up?"</p><p>Kurt looks at him appraisingly. "California?" he guesses, remembering the wild hair at the diner.</p><p>Blaine laughs. "Ohio, actually," he says.</p><p>"Can you believe it?" Rachel asks. "What are the odds that two Ohio kids would get their breaks in the same show?" She glances at Blaine. "Though this isn't your first one, is it?"</p><p>"I was just an understudy before," Blaine says. "This is the first time I've been hired for a role that might end up on stage. Though it's not surprising that it took so long. I didn't try acting until college."</p><p>"NYU," Rachel says.</p><p>"Nice," Kurt comments. "One of the other vogue.com writers went there."</p><p>"You write?" Blaine looks interested. "For Vogue?"</p><p>"For the web site, mostly," Kurt corrects him. "I lucked into an internship out of high school, and kept working there."</p><p>"How is the online writing world?" Blaine asks. "I've heard it's difficult."</p><p>"I'm lucky to be working for a company, not free-lancing," Kurt admits. "And I took classes at CUNY, too. It took a while, doing it part-time, but I finished last year. So hopefully if I get laid off, I'll be able to find other work."</p><p>"He won't have any trouble," Rachel says. "He's amazing."</p><p>Kurt blows her a kiss. "And you're a newly-minted optimist," he replies.</p><p>"I got a part," Rachel says. "The world has been transformed into my oyster."</p><p>Blaine stands up. "That's our coffee," he says. "I'll be right back."</p><p>"I take soy milk in mine," Rachel calls.</p><p>"The world is your oyster," Kurt smirks. "Do you even eat oysters?"</p><p>"Of course not," Rachel says. "But the show is going well, thank you very much. We ran through our song today. Blaine, as it turns out, has a lovely voice."</p><p><em>Of course he does,</em> Kurt thinks. <em>We heard him the other night. In the diner.</em> It's unlike Rachel to forget any performance, but perhaps the excitement of getting the part distracted her. But before Kurt can ask anything more, Blaine is back with the coffee, pouring two entire packets of refined sugar into his.</p><p>"How soon do you need to be back?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"Rachel needs to get back in an hour, but they don't need me for the rest of the day," Blaine says. "I was going to do some grocery shopping."</p><p>"Don't forget to go through tomorrow's lines," Rachel reminds him. "We're going to have more to do soon."</p><p>"There's been a lot of watching recently," Blaine admits. "They're starting to block some of the scenes, so we have to be there, but we'll go for an hour or more just watching the leads work through things."</p><p>"Sounds exciting." Kurt doesn't mean that to come out as drily as it does.</p><p>"It will get busier soon," Rachel says. "There's a scene later on where Blaine and I have pages of dialogue."</p><p>"We should practice," Blaine suggests.</p><p>"How do you feel about coming all the way out to our place to run lines?" Rachel suggests. "I think we've got free time at the end of the week."</p><p>Blaine opens his phone, thumbs through something, then nods.</p><p>"If it's ok with Kurt," Rachel amends.</p><p>"It's fine," Kurt says. "If I'm on deadline, I'll stay later at vogue.com."</p><p>"I'll cook," Blaine offers. "As a thanks for your hospitality."</p><p>Kurt smiles at him. "That would be lovely. Otherwise, either I cook, or we eat vegan Chinese take-out."</p><p>Blaine grins back. "And that means that I had really better go shopping," he says. "Lovely to meet you, Kurt. See you at rehearsal, Rachel." He picks up his cup and heads for the door.</p><p>Kurt waves. "Bye."</p><p>And then Blaine stops at the door, spins around, and starts singing.</p><p><em>You say yes, I say no</em> <em><br/>You say stop </em><br/><em>and I say go, go, go...</em><br/><em>You say goodbye and I say hello</em></p><p>Kurt glances at Rachel, but she is busy texting someone. Possibly warning them that their co-star is missing a marble. Or a dozen marbles. Seriously. Where does Blaine think he is? The halls of William McKinley High School or something?</p><p>Blaine dances back into the coffee shop and whirls around one of the posts in the middle of the seating area.</p><p>
  <em>Hello, hello</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I don't know why you say goodbye</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I say hello</em>
</p><p>And then... the other customers stand up and join in, singing backup, miming talking on phones.</p><p>Rachel takes a sip and says something about needing to pick up more coffee for the apartment. Kurt stares at her. Because, fine. Their years in Glee Club granted them the ability to ignore other people's drama, particularly when expressed in song. But Blaine is coming towards their table, his arms spread wide, face pleading. And it's not as if Rachel is blind to cute guys; she and Kurt regularly swoon over the same actors during movie nights. That's half the fun.</p><p>And then Blaine stops singing as suddenly as he started. He walks out the door without a second glance. All the other customers go back to their lattes and conversations, as if nothing has happened.</p><p>But Kurt's palms are sweating and his heart is racing. And it's not because Blaine's over-the-top show face is extraordinarily cute.</p><p>Well. Not JUST because Blaine is cute.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I'll get home early from work if you say that you love me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blaine cooks. And sings. Rachel eats the food, but only Kurt hears the songs.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title is a line from "I Want You to Want Me."</p><p>Soundtrack</p><p>Cheeseburger in Paradise (Jimmy Buffett: https://youtu.be/jBsPZV14I-k)<br/>I Want You to Want Me (Cheap Trick: https://youtu.be/BJs_L7yq5qE)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt is only halfway up the stairs that lead to his apartment when he starts to smell it. Garlic and onions, sautéing. And that's when he remembers: this is the day that Rachel was planning to run lines with her very cute co-star. Because Rachel does not sauté vegetables. She manages to serve them both burned and raw and coated with an excessive amount of oil. But this... this smells delicious. He knocks, to be polite, and opens the door.</p><p>Blaine is in front of the stove, humming something to himself. That, at least, he has in common with Rachel. But Blaine is also paying attention to the pan, moving the onions around so they soften thoroughly before caramelizing. Kurt takes a moment to just enjoy watching him. And then he realizes that something is missing. Blaine is humming, but otherwise the apartment is quiet. Which means...</p><p>"Hi," Kurt interrupts. "Umm. Where's Rachel?"</p><p>Blaine spins around with the grace of someone who has been practicing dancing. "Kurt!" He pulls earbuds out. "Hi! Rachel ran out to get some white wine for cooking."</p><p>Kurt nods. He and Rachel had stopped keeping wine in the house after Finn's death, when they discovered that neither of them was likely to rein in the other if they started grieving.</p><p>"I think these are done," Blaine adds, turning off the heat. "Everything else needs to be added quickly. And I brought angel hair pasta, so that won't take long to cook, either."</p><p>Kurt nods. "Did you have a productive session?"</p><p>"I think so," Blaine says. "You'll have to ask Rachel. She's a perfectionist. She already has our song memorized." He grimaces. "That's what I was listening to when you came in. I haven't learned all of the lyrics yet."</p><p>"Rachel is driven," Kurt agrees. "She's always been like that. Even in high school."</p><p>"You know, I think I actually remember her," Blaine says. "Ohio show choir competitions."</p><p>"She was the star," Kurt agrees.</p><p>Blaine glances at the photos on one of the shelves. "That's her in high school, isn't it?"</p><p>Kurt picks up the photo and looks at it. "Our junior year," he confirms. "That's the year we went to Nationals."</p><p>Blaine leans towards him until he can see the photo, as well. "Is that you?" he asks. "In the back?"</p><p>Kurt nods again. "That's how Rachel and I got to know each other."</p><p>"Rachel doesn't talk much about it," Blaine comments.</p><p>Kurt shrugs in agreement. He and Rachel have a rule: he lets Rachel decide what to tell of her story, and she doesn't gossip about him. It's part of the deal that they made after the night when they decided not to keep wine in the apartment anymore.</p><p>"You beat us that year," Blaine says, "but we won the next time."</p><p>Kurt frowns, trying to remember who the competition was during his senior year.</p><p>"Dalton Academy?" Blaine supplies.</p><p>"The all-boys school." Kurt finally remembers them. "What were you called, again?"</p><p>"The Warblers," Blaine replies.</p><p>"Right. The Warblers." Kurt narrows his eyes and tries to picture Blaine in a blazer. It's hard; Blaine is wearing a v-neck sweater, fairly casual. It fits him well. But then Blaine's eyes flash, and Kurt sees the bouncy, dynamic guy who sang in the coffee shop. "You... were the lead singer?"</p><p>"My hair was shorter then," Blaine says. Today, it's back to the wild curls, released from its gel.</p><p>Kurt nods. "But it looked shorter in the coffee shop."</p><p>Blaine grins. "I'll probably have to cut it before the show opens," he says. "The role is kinda preppy."</p><p>"So Dalton prepared you well for it." Kurt is teasing. Not quite flirting, though.</p><p>Blaine laughs. "Only for the clothes," he says. "We had a show choir, but not a drama club. I did a lot of singing and dancing, but no acting. I got into musical theatre in college." He shrugs. "I was supposed to become a lawyer, but my friends started a band freshman year, and next thing you know, I was in the chorus of a musical. And then I was reading for speaking roles. And then I declared a Drama major, and it was all over." He looks amused. "I told my dad that I was just developing my public speaking, for oral arguments in trial. But I bombed my LSATs." He gives Kurt a conspiratorial grin. "On purpose. I loved the stage."</p><p>Kurt puts the photo back on its shelf. "It's a hard thing to love," he says.</p><p>"It is," Blaine agrees.</p><p>"How did you hold out for so long, trying to land a role?" Kurt asks. He has been counting in his head. He isn't sure if Blaine graduated in his year or later, but they can't be that different in age. "Not to pry, I mean."</p><p>"But you've been watching Rachel go through the stress of auditioning for roles that she didn't get," Blaine finishes for him. "I got some parts in amateur productions, mostly with my college friends. And my band is still together."</p><p>"Oh," Kurt says. He doesn't want to ask about the band right now. He's suddenly terrified that he has reviewed them, that he said something awful and offensive, and it will poison Rachel's on-stage chemistry with Blaine and destroy her career.</p><p>But any potential awkwardness is avoided by the arrival of the diva herself, sweeping through the doorway. "The wine has arrived!" Rachel sings. She hands the bottle to Blaine and gives Kurt an airy kiss on the cheek. "Kurt! You made it in spite of your deadline!"</p><p>"The column practically wrote itself today," Kurt says. It's true. There was enough to like about the latest fashion show that he hadn't needed to go back and take out half of the cutting remarks.</p><p>"Then it is time to boil the pasta water." Blaine looks around for a pot.</p><p>Kurt walks around him and bends to get into the bottom cabinet. "They're down here," he says.</p><p>Blaine smiles at him and takes the pot, then fills it with water. "This won't take long," he says, turning on the heat under the pot, and then under the sauté pan, as well.</p><p>"May I help?" Kurt offers.</p><p>"There isn't much left to do," Blaine says. He bends and pulls a can and two jars out of a brightly colored reusable grocery bag. "But if you've got a can opener..."</p><p>"Of course." Kurt opens the can of chopped tomatoes, and then the artichoke hearts and olives.</p><p>Rachel stands back and watches. "You know, I realized a better approach to the argument scene," she tells Blaine. "Want to hear it?"</p><p>It's never really a choice with Rachel, so she immediately launches in. And Blaine may claim that he isn't as intense as Rachel is, but he remembers the lines, and catches on to the nuance that Rachel has added, and still adds the pasta when the water boils and the wine when the onions have heated again. Kurt just enjoys the show. It's been a while since either of them has had a cute guy in the kitchen, after all.</p><p>Kurt pulls out a colander and then gets out of the way, letting Blaine drain the pasta and mix it with the vegetables. Rachel at least remembers to find plates and put them on the table. And then they are ready to eat. Blaine brought a container of shredded parmesan, which he offers to Kurt. It's a nice touch, creating a vegan meal for Rachel while keeping the traditional flavors available. Kurt comments on it, because Rachel isn't going to notice. Blaine grins.</p><p>And then he suddenly gets up from the table and starts to sing.</p><p>
  <em>Tried to amend my carnivorous habits<br/>Made it nearly seventy days<br/>Losin' weight without speed, eatin' sunflower seeds<br/>Drinkin' lots of carrot juice and soakin' up rays<br/></em>
</p><p>Kurt stares. This cute guy just made vegan pasta with artichoke hearts, with perfectly sautéed onions and whole-wheat angel hair pasta. And now he's singing Jimmy Buffett?</p><p>
  <em>But at night I'd had these wonderful dreams<br/>Some kind of sensuous treat<br/>Not zucchini, fettuccine or bulghar wheat<br/>But a big warm bun and a huge hunk of meat</em>
</p><p>And he's swiveling his hips and dancing across the floor and miming eating a burger. With a face that looks almost orgasmic.</p><p>Kurt tamps down that thought by glancing at Rachel. She is gesturing with her fork, deep in conversation with Blaine's seat, while Blaine dances around behind her.</p><p>
  <em>Cheeseburger in paradise<br/>I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise</em>
</p><p>Yeah. So this is pretty weird.</p><p>And then the song ends, and Blaine sits back down, continues eating, and responds politely and appropriately to Rachel's flow of words.</p><p>*</p><p>The door has barely closed behind Blaine when Rachel lets out a delighted squee. "He is going to be such a great scene partner," she says.</p><p>Kurt nods, then hands a plate to Rachel to dry.</p><p>"And you haven't even heard him sing yet!" she sighs. "We are going to steal our scenes. This is going to be the break that we both need."</p><p>Kurt raises an eyebrow at her, and she subsides a little.</p><p>"Fine. I'll manage my expectations." She puts the plate into the cupboard and takes the one that Kurt has just washed.</p><p>"I just don't want to see you disappointed," Kurt replies, more gently than he would with anyone else.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt has finished his nightly routine and ceded the bathroom to Rachel for the next hour. Which gives him time to sit down with his laptop and begin a search.</p><p>But what search terms can possibly tell him anything?</p><p>Kurt tries a few.</p><p>
  <em>Neurological disorders singing</em>
</p><p>That one leads to a bunch of articles about the benefits of singing for people with MS or Parkinsons. Which, fine. Maybe it justifies the existence of music programs beyond preparation for a Broadway career. But it doesn't explain what is going on with Kurt.</p><p>
  <em>Brain cancer singing</em>
</p><p>Kurt swallows before typing that one. His logical mind knows that prostate cancer and brain cancer probably aren't the same thing. But, given both of his parents, it seems like something to check into.</p><p>But all the results are about therapy, again. About people singing to loved ones who are dying. And frankly, reading about that still hurts far too much to think about, so Kurt just closes the search page.</p><p>
  <em>Why do I hear this cute guy singing and nobody else does???</em>
</p><p>That at least links to information about auditory hallucinations (as well as to dating sites). But none of sites talk about hearing mysterious singing by a particular person. And they certainly don't include dancing.</p><p>Kurt closes the window and erases his browser history. Because sometimes Rachel grabs his laptop without thinking about it, and he doesn't want her getting unexpected YouTube recommendations based on his searches.</p><p>He falls asleep thinking about a guy with lovely manners, compelling eyes, and cheesy song-and-dance routines.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel is busy for the next week. Rehearsals during the day, and shifts at the diner in the evenings. Kurt has a break between assignments, and he's bored, and Rachel isn't there to share a movie night and snarky gossip. So he goes online to see who is playing at his favorite clubs. (He misses the Village Voice; at one point, he and Rachel had a set of darts that they would throw at the ads to help them choose a show at random.)</p><p>His choice is awful. Or excellent, depending on your perspective. The lyrics are self-involved, set on top of jarringly peppy melodies, and one of the backup singers is flat half the time. Kurt hasn't written a full-on musical rant in a while, and it feels good to let loose.</p><p>*</p><p>One evening during the next week, Kurt comes home to find Blaine cooking again. But Rachel is there this time, chattering at Blaine as he stands in front of the stove. Of course, that means that Blaine isn't wearing his earbuds, and turns as soon as Rachel shrieks her greeting. Which is mostly significant because Kurt only gets a second to watch Blaine's butt while he cooks. Which is much less time than Kurt wants.</p><p>"Hope you don't mind me coming over again," Blaine apologizes.</p><p>"We needed some extra time to work on our duet," Rachel explains.</p><p>"I kept messing up the lyrics today," Blaine grimaces.</p><p>"Lovely voice, bad memory for words," Rachel adds. "Sing them again?"</p><p>"Not yet," Blaine says. "Wait until the pan has finished deglazing."</p><p>Rachel rolls her eyes, but shoots a grin at Kurt. She is clearly enjoying this. Kurt doesn't blame her; a co-star who works hard AND cooks is an improvement from the various talented hotties that Rachel used to bring home from NYADA during their first year in New York.</p><p>"Actually, we should put this on the table and serve it while it's hot," Blaine amends his last suggestion. "We can sing after we eat."</p><p>Rachel shakes her head.</p><p>"There's nothing here that will damage your voice," Blaine promises.</p><p>So Rachel acquiesces. And somehow, the dinner conversation turns to Kurt's writing. What's his next big assignment? Does he travel, or go to fashion shows in New York? What are the designers like? Is Project Runway anything like the real world? Rachel nudges the conversation along, which is weirdly out of character, and makes Kurt wonder if she's about to ask him for a really big favor.</p><p>They clear the table before anything comes up, which makes Kurt even more worried. Blaine insists on helping with the dishes, so he ends up drying while Rachel puts things away. Which is only bad because Kurt has to keep looking at the dishes that he's washing, and doesn't get to ogle Blaine unless Kurt's actively handing something to him. But even with handing over the silverware one piece at a time, it doesn't take long to finish. And then Rachel bounces away and comes back carrying... a guitar?</p><p>"We don't have a recording of the orchestra yet," Blaine explained. "This is the most portable backing track that we've got." He strums a few times, then stops to tune it.</p><p>"It was fine," Rachel says. "It can't be out of tune so fast. Can it?"</p><p>Blaine looks sheepishly at Kurt. "We've got a critic this time," he says.</p><p>"What?" Kurt looks surprised.</p><p>"I ran across your music blog," Blaine admits.</p><p>Rachel swats him. "You didn't tell me that!"</p><p>"Rachel and I have a deal," Kurt promises. "I never write about her performances." He raises an eyebrow at Rachel. "I guess that should extend to your co-stars now, too."</p><p>Blaine waves him off. "I'll just have to try to be good enough to impress you."</p><p><em>Oooh.</em> Kurt purses his lips. <em>Some feistiness coming out? </em>He smiles and nods. "Go on, then," he says. "Impress me."</p><p>Blaine settles onto the couch with the guitar, while Rachel stands beside him. "You know, we'll need a backing track when it comes time to practice the blocking while singing," she says.</p><p>"For now, I'm just trying to remember all the words," Blaine says. He strums a few chords, and then starts.</p><p>It's a bit rough. There are several moments when they have to stop and go back, forgetting a line or missing a note. But it's nice - Rachel's right, their voices do blend nicely, and they've got a wonderful flirty chemistry when they sing. When they're done, Kurt sits up and claps. Rachel bounces over and hugs him. Blaine grins and unstraps the guitar.</p><p>"Didn't I tell you?" Rachel asks, perched on the arm of Kurt's chair. "We're going to blow the theatre critics away."</p><p>Kurt raises an eyebrow at her. "You know I don't write about theatre. And also I wouldn't write about your shows."</p><p>She swats his arm. "Don't be a spoilsport. We were wonderful, and you know it."</p><p>Blaine blushes and gets up to put the guitar in its case. "I'd better be going," he says. "Thanks for letting us practice here, Kurt."</p><p>"Oh, it's my pleasure," Kurt smiles.</p><p>Blaine smiles back, and then turns to grab his jacket.</p><p>But then he spins back and starts to sing.</p><p>
  <em>I want you to want me<br/>I need you to need me<br/>I'd love you to love me<br/>I'm begging you to beg me<br/>I want you to want me</em>
</p><p>And Blaine is sliding across the wood floor on his knees, head tilted, singing something about "seeing you crying," and then bouncing up and singing the chorus, over and over again.</p><p>And then he gets up off the floor, picks up the guitar case, and leaves.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Go to bed feeling the same way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's music everywhere, if you listen for it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Playlist:</p><p>Central Park:</p><p>What's the Frequency, Kenneth (R.E.M.: https://youtu.be/jWkMhCLkVOg)<br/>I Got You Babe (Sonny and Cher: https://youtu.be/BERd61bDY7k)<br/>A Little Less Conversation (Elvis Presley: https://youtu.be/WWVMXLSS1cA)<br/>R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (Aretha Franklin: https://youtu.be/JzqGZjFnYnA)<br/>Another Brick in the Wall, Part Two (Pink Floyd: https://youtu.be/HrxX9TBj2zY . This video has always freaked me out.)<br/>These Boots Are Made For Walkin' (Nancy Sinatra: https://youtu.be/SbyAZQ45uww)<br/>40 Cups of Coffee (Ella Mae Morse: https://youtu.be/BMcdzc1TkO4)</p><p>The club:<br/>Dancing in the Dark (Scary Pockets ft Darren Criss: https://youtu.be/b5rySSphFO0)<br/>Happy (Pharrell Williams: https://youtu.be/C7dPqrmDWxs)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt lies awake in bed for what feels like hours. He just can't get rid of the image of Blaine on his knees in front of Kurt's chair. Finally, he gives in and loosens his pajama bottoms, rucks down his underwear, and takes himself in hand. He's already half hard, and it only takes the slightest touch to start leaking. He closes his eyes, rests his head back against his pillow, and starts to stroke, imagining grabbing Blaine's very cute butt and rutting against him until Blaine makes that ridiculous orgasm-face.</p><p>It's the first time Kurt has ever come while imagining someone singing about a <em>warm bun and a hunk of meat</em>. Ok, it's the first time Kurt has ever imagined a Jimmy Buffett cover while masturbating.</p><p>He still comes harder than he has in ages. Of course, that's not difficult. It's been a while.</p><p>It wasn't always like this. As soon as Kurt arrived in New York, years ago, Rachel started setting him up with cute boys. She'd already been at NYADA for a couple of weeks, and was desperately trying to move on from Finn. But a lot of the cute guys at NYADA were gay. So... Rachel flirted with them, dated the straight ones, and introduced Kurt to any guy who wasn't into girls. And Kurt appreciated it. It was thrilling, going from feeling so isolated in Ohio to having so many options. Kurt's first real kiss was with one of Rachel's NYADA acquaintances. So was his first time having sex.</p><p>When Finn reappeared in Rachel's life, things got a bit messier. Rachel careened back and forth between pining after Finn and diving into short-term relationships with cute-but-problematic New Yorkers. But Kurt only paid attention to about half of the drama; a world that included both sex and his awesome vogue.com internship was heady and freeing.</p><p>And then his dad got cancer, and it all came crashing down. Suddenly sex was an escape, something to do to clear his head after flying back from Ohio, worried and upset. And Rachel was too much of a mess to realize that both of them were getting into some unsavory relationships, throwing themselves into them just to escape from everything else. Kurt got so lost in the distraction that he missed a call from Carole, telling him to come home NOW. When he arrived in Ohio, his dad was already unconscious. Kurt had to say goodbye in a song, at the funeral, wishing that his father could hold his hand one last time.</p><p>When Kurt got back to New York, he got into a series of half-considered hookups. And that's where he was when Rachel got The Call. Kurt got home around four in the morning, feeling pleasantly numb, to find Rachel just sitting at the table, staring at her phone.</p><p>He tried to sing at Finn's memorial. But the music just wouldn't come out. Nothing would come out.</p><p>Afterwards, after drinking too much wine and drunk-dialing too many past hook-ups, Kurt and Rachel had sworn to watch out for each other. To save the drinking for times when they really needed it, and to keep each other from doing stupid things even then. And to stop with the match-making. If the right person ever came along, of course, they would support each other. That went without saying. But Kurt wouldn't try to introduce Rachel to cute models, and Rachel wouldn't set Kurt up with aspiring actors.</p><p>It worked. After nine years, Kurt and Rachel have both settled into lives that are stable and mostly healthy, relying on their friendship instead of searching for sex. But a guy still has needs. And apparently, Kurt's current needs include fantasizing about Rachel's cute co-star singing cheesy songs.</p><p>Kurt hopes that jacking off will clear his head. Maybe the hallucinations are just a side-effect of going for too long without an orgasm.</p><p>Maybe. It's enough, at least, to let Kurt fall asleep.</p><p>*</p><p>The next day, however, Kurt's thoughts are still a tangled mess. Which is bad. Because there's a new assignment at work, and Kurt needs to turn thoughts into words. Words that are funny, words that nip without biting too hard. Words that will keep the readers coming back.</p><p>It's no good. Kurt's mind keeps wandering to a cute butt and compelling eyes and unruly hair and a lovely singing voice. Finally, he gives up and goes for a walk to get coffee. Not at his usual shop, either. Kurt's favorite coffee joint for dispelling writer's block is on the other side of Central Park, and requires a combination of a subway ride and a long walk.</p><p>It's a nice day, and there are a lot of people around. A homeless guy, wandering along muttering <em>what's the frequency, Kenneth</em> to himself. An elderly couple, holding hands, singing <em>I got you babe</em> to one another. A much younger man, following a woman, singing about <em>a little less conversation, a little more action</em>. The woman spins around and responds with a few lines from <em>R-E-S-P-E-C-T</em>. A group of girls in school uniforms, maybe middle-school-aged, wander past, laughing and giggling behind a teacher.</p><p>And then one of the girls turns around and starts to sing.</p><p>
  <em>We don't need no education<br/>We don't need no thought control<br/>No dark sarcasm in the classroom<br/>Teacher, leave them kids alone</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone</em>
</p><p>The other girls join her, singing and dancing. And then suddenly they spin back around and start giggling again, as if nothing had ever happened.</p><p>Kurt frowns at them. The world is full of music. The world is ALWAYS full of music, it always has been, that's why he started singing in the first place, back when he was little. Because it was more fun to sing along than to just listen to it. But he had always thought that the music in his head was exactly that: his own personal earworms.</p><p>But he never would have thought that a bunch of sweet tween girls would be singing Pink Floyd. Seriously. He had argued enough with Finn about the merits of various genres; Finn would have defended classic rock, but Kurt would have criticized it.</p><p>And also, there's the dancing. Earworms don't <em>dance</em>.</p><p>Kurt gets to the end of the park, swerves around a woman singing about how<em> these boots were made for walking, and that's what they're gonna do</em>, avoids stumbling into a hotdog stand, and heads for his coffee shop. The barista takes his order, singing to herself about drinking <em>forty cups of coffee</em>. Kurt pays, picks up his Americano, and heads back to work.</p><p>His head isn't much clearer that it was before his walk. In fact, he is starting to think that maybe the Jimmy Buffett song hadn't been the product of a sexually deprived hallucination, after all.</p><p>He doesn't want to think about the implications for the other song that Blaine had sung.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt finally finishes a draft of his assignment. It takes a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a recording of whale songs to finally get himself to focus, but he manages it. The product isn't great, but he's able to wait until the next day, then edit it, and finally turn it into something that isn't completely embarrassing.</p><p>He has just turned it in when he gets a text from Rachel.</p><p><em>Want to go see some music tonight?</em> she asks.</p><p>Maybe a live band would help Kurt focus on the real world, and not the things going on inside his head.<em> Sure,</em> he replies.</p><p><em>Doors open at 8:30,</em> Rachel replies, and adds an address. Kurt doesn't recognize it - it isn't one of the clubs that he frequents. Which could be great. Or awful. Or awful in a great way, meaning that Kurt would have the opportunity for a nice palate-cleansing evisceration of a new band.</p><p><em>I'll be there, </em>Kurt texts back. And with that, he goes back to the electronic discussion of the next possible fashion theme, hoping that someone - anyone - will eventually have an idea that isn't totally hideous.</p><p>*</p><p>The club is small. It isn't quite packed, but there are a lot of people there. It's a fairly low-key crowd, both casual and urbane, not trying to make any kind of statement with their clothes. The band is on stage, starting to warm up. There's a handful of guys, wearing several different variations on black t-shirts and jeans, tuning a guitar, then a bass. The keyboard player plays a few chords and adjusts the volume, while the drummer fidgets with his sticks. And then, without any real discussion, they just start to play.</p><p>It's a funk band, with the kind of understated groove that just settles into the background. Kurt looks for Rachel, and finds her sitting at a table off to the side. She waves him over and offers him some pita bread and hummus. Kurt tries it - it's better than your average bar food, but it's clear that the appetizers aren't the main attraction here. He settles into a chair, figuring that he'll eventually discover why Rachel wanted to come to this club tonight.</p><p>The band finishes its tune to scattered applause, and starts another number. It's also funk, a different key and tempo, vaguely familiar. Rachel nudges him, and he realizes that it's a cover of...</p><p>"...Wait, is that Madonna?" Kurt asks. "A funk cover of <em>Borderline</em>?"</p><p>Rachel listens, then sings a couple lines. "You're right," she says.</p><p>Ok. So Kurt starts to listen more closely. He recognizes a couple show tunes, some classic rock, a little recent pop. The covers are amusing, full of little quotes of the originals in the keyboard phrases, just hinting at the structure of the tunes. Not bad. Not bad at all.</p><p>They've played maybe half of a set when another band member comes out. Black t-shirt, wild hair. He sets up at a mic and waves to the audience.</p><p>Holy shit. It's Blaine.</p><p>"Sorry I'm late," Blaine says. "My day job ran long. But it looks like you don't really need me."</p><p>Several people in the crowd yell back at him. It's clear that the band plays here a lot, and the audience knows them well.</p><p>"It's true," Rachel whispers to Kurt. "Our director decided to run through one of his scenes at the last minute. I wasn't in it, so I headed out here to tell the rest of the band."</p><p>Kurt just sits back and watches, half expecting Blaine to spin around and start singing something outrageous. But the bass just starts another funk beat, and Blaine grins, bobbing his head to the bass, until the rhythm is clearly established.</p><p>
  <em>I get up in the evenin'</em>
  <br/>
  <em>and I ain't got nothin' to say</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I go to bed feelin' the same way...</em>
</p><p>Kurt frowns, trying to place it. The lyrics should help, but Blaine's singing them, which makes it hard to focus.</p><p>
  <em>You can't start a fire</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Can't start a fire without a spark</em>
  <br/>
  <em>This gun's for hire</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Even if we're just dancin' in the dark</em>
</p><p>Oh. Ok. Springsteen. Huh. It would have been fun to play this for his dad, or for Finn. Kurt winces at the thought and looks at Rachel. She's doing a little table dance with her feet, tapping her fingers on the edge of the hummus dish. Kurt nudges her, and she grins at him. But when she stands, like she's going to join the crowd on the dance floor, Kurt shakes his head. They say you never forget how to dance, but Kurt isn't willing to find out. It's more fun to sit on the edge of everything and just watch, and listen.</p><p>There are several more songs before the set break. Rachel only dances to a couple of them, and then comes back, laughing and breathless.</p><p>"Fun?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"It's nice to let everything out sometimes," Rachel admits.</p><p>"The music isn't your usual style," Kurt notes.</p><p>"But I like it," Rachel says. "Besides, my character is supposed to loosen up in the second act."</p><p>"Oh, so you're a method actor now," Kurt teases.</p><p>The song comes to an end, and Blaine announces that they're going to be back after a short break. Kurt and Rachel clap and whoop along with the rest of the crowd as the band members pick up their instruments and walk off stage.</p><p>It's only a few moments before Blaine comes back into the room and wanders through the crowd, chatting with some members of the audience, hugging others. But he keeps moving through the room until he gets to Rachel's and Kurt's table. Rachel scoots her chair towards Kurt and motions for Blaine to join them.</p><p>"So that's your college band?" Rachel asks.</p><p>"One of them," Blaine confirms. "It's always been kind of a loose group. We play together when we can. I promised to be part of this gig before I got the part in our show, and I didn't want to stand them up." He looks hopefully from Rachel to Kurt. "So...?"</p><p>"That was great!" Rachel smiles widely. Kurt nods in agreement.</p><p>"Really?" He glances quickly at Kurt. "Not flat, or..."</p><p>Kurt shrugs. "The covers were unusual," he admits. "But pleasantly so."</p><p>Rachel kicks him under the table. "Ignore Kurt's faint praise," she says. "It's been so long since he's given a genuine compliment that he doesn't even know how to do it anymore."</p><p>Kurt rolls his eyes at her. She just laughs at him.</p><p>"Ok, fine," Kurt says. "I enjoyed it."</p><p>Blaine smiles at him. "Thank you." And then someone taps on his shoulder, and he gets up and hugs another person. It looks like the entire audience is made up of his friends. And then he's introducing people to Rachel and talking about the show, and Kurt sits back to watch. The crowd sounds wash over him, relaxing in a weird way, until finally Blaine excuses himself, hugs Rachel, and grins at Kurt. The room lights blink a warning, and Blaine heads for the stage.</p><p>And then he suddenly turns around and starts singing.</p><p>
  <em>Clap along</em>
  <br/>
  <em>If you feel</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Like a room without a roof</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Because I'm happy</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Clap along</em>
  <br/>
  <em>If you feel</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Like happiness is the truth...</em>
</p><p>And then he spins back around and walks to the stage. When he gets there, he says something into the mic, and the crowd cheers at him. And Kurt cheers along with them, though he isn't sure what that any of this is all about.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I wake up from something that keeps knocking at my brain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kurt doesn't read snail mail, Blaine's band plays at a wedding, and Santana calls out Kurt for a total failure of his gaydar.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note the addition of the "hurt/comfort" tag. The hurt happens this chapter. Comfort is still coming.</p><p>Chapter title is a line from "I Think I Love You," from the Partridge Family.</p><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>Misery (Maroon 5, but also the Warblers)<br/>I Think I Love You (The Partridge Family: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bb4FMn-IWEY)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Tina suddenly needs a band for her wedding." Rachel puts down her phone and looks over her shoulder at Kurt. "Next weekend. Can you believe it?"</p><p>Kurt is at the stove, making a tofu scramble for brunch. Their slow Sunday mornings are a tradition - coffee, bagels, and a fight over who gets to read the Arts section of the Sunday New York Times. The full brunch is a new addition, inspired by watching Blaine cook. Maybe doing his own cooking will clear Kurt's head. Or maybe it's wishful thinking. It will still taste good.</p><p>"Kurt," Rachel says. "Did you hear me? Tina's freaking out because her wedding band cancelled. And she wants all of us to sing."</p><p>That gets Kurt's attention. "Wait. What?" He turns the stove off. The tofu is done, anyways. "Tina's getting married?"</p><p>"Yes. Next weekend." Rachel stares at him. "The invitation has been sitting on the table for months. Didn't you see it?"</p><p>"You know I don't read the mail." Kurt takes care of all of his bills online, after all, and the rest of it doesn't matter. He hasn't opened things that appear to contain greeting cards for years. Since after his father died, in fact. The trite sentiment did nothing to resolve the pain. If anything, it made it worse.</p><p>"Well, maybe you should read it," Rachel says. "At least when it comes in ivory envelopes with calligraphy. I thought that would have caught your attention."</p><p>Kurt shrugs. "Who's she marrying? Mike?"</p><p>"Of course not. They've been broken up for years." Rachel is on Facebook. Kurt thinks she's crazy, but, well. She IS Rachel. Crazy goes with the territory.</p><p>"Ok, fine." Kurt goes back to the stove and spoons the scramble onto two plates, then brings it to the table. "You can tell me the gossip. You know you want to."</p><p>"Tina is marrying a guy she met through a friend at work," Rachel says. "In Rhode Island or Connecticut or something. I don't know him. But the wedding's in Westchester County - that's where his family is from - and everyone is going to be there."</p><p>"Which is where the part about <em>Tina wants all of us to sing</em> comes in," Kurt finishes for her.</p><p>"Yes," Rachel confirms.</p><p>"Except for me," Kurt says.</p><p>Rachel gives him a look.</p><p>"Rachel, I didn't even RSVP. The wedding's in a week. I'm not even going to be there," Kurt points out.</p><p>"Oh, don't worry about the RSVP," Rachel says. "I answered for you."</p><p>"RACHEL." Kurt glares at her.</p><p>"Ok, fine," she relents. "But there's a space for you if you want it. I even ordered you the chicken for the dinner."</p><p>Kurt rolls his eyes and takes a bite of the tofu scramble. Rachel taps a few more messages into her phone, and then starts eating, as well.</p><p>She is distracted enough that Kurt gets to flip through the Arts section first. He reads the theatre reviews, knowing that Rachel will expect responses to her running commentary when she gets her hands on the paper, and then looks at the music that will be playing during the week. His next Vogue article is due on Wednesday, so he can probably go to a mid-week show if he needs a little palate-cleansing from his fashion writing. He's deep enough in his planning that he gets startled by Rachel's shriek.</p><p>Kurt sits up. "What is it?" But then he realizes that was her delighted shriek, not the one she uses when something horrible happens. So he prepares to be amused, rather than worried.</p><p>"It's ok if you don't want to go to Tina's wedding with me," Rachel announces. "Blaine says he can do it. Or that his band can do it, actually. He sent me some recordings to share with Tina." She taps furiously at her phone. "And he can be my plus-one if you won't go."</p><p>Kurt sips his coffee and tries to go back to reading the paper. But he's imagining Blaine in a tux, and wondering what ridiculous wedding songs he might sing, at least in Kurt's mess of a head.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt meets Rachel for coffee on Tuesday. Blaine shows up, too. (And, yes. Kurt was secretly hoping that he would be there.) Rachel immediately gives Blaine a list of songs that his band should learn for the wedding, complete with potential guest singers from the New Directions alums. And the keys that work best for each person. Blaine is amused and good-natured about all of it.</p><p>"I hope your friends don't get mad about bringing a rival show choir into their celebration." Blaine looks like he's teasing more than worrying.</p><p>"Let everyone have a solo, and they'll be fine," Rachel reassures him. "Wait." She looks at the song list. "If Santana and Mercedes sing that as a duet, it should be in a different key than if I sing it."</p><p>Blaine looks into the distance, like he's hearing something in his head. Then he nods. "Ok. That sounds right."</p><p>"You remember all of the voices?" Kurt can't help but be surprised.</p><p>"Not all of them," Blaine replies. "I don't know what Mike Chang's voice sounds like. He's the great dancer, right?"</p><p>Rachel nods, and they go back to the list. It's long enough for an hour of partying already.</p><p>Then Blaine looks up. "What about you, Kurt?" he asks. "What do you want to sing?"</p><p>Kurt feels his ears turning red.</p><p>"You know the band plays more than just funk, right?" Blaine rushes. "There are a couple other guys who can come, a saxophone, and the guitar player actually used to play cello when he was a kid. We can do all kinds of styles, from show tunes to jazz to classic rock to pop. We're not great at rapping or opera, though."</p><p>"That's not it," Kurt finally responds. "It's just... I'm not going to be there."</p><p>Blaine looks surprised. "Oh..."</p><p>"Just... busy with work and everything. You know how it goes." Kurt isn't sure why he's making fake excuses. Rachel glares at him, and he just blinks innocently back at her.</p><p>"I understand," Blaine says. "And I'll make sure that Rachel says hi to everyone for you."</p><p>"Hey!" Rachel responds. "I would remember to do that." Both Kurt and Blaine look skeptically at her. "I would. I promise I would."</p><p>Blaine nods and looks back at the list. "We should come up with some songs for my band to do by ourselves, too," he says. "So you can all have plenty of time to dance."</p><p>Kurt looks at his watch. "I should get going," he said. "Have fun at the wedding, both of you." He stands up.</p><p>"Oh!" Rachel looks at her phone. "I should get back, too. Blaine, you aren't in the next scene, right?"</p><p>Blaine nods. "I'll stay here for a bit and send the setlist to the rest of the band." He gives Rachel a sad-puppy look. "You know that we're going to need to have a band rehearsal or two, so I won't be able to come over and run lines with you this week."</p><p>"You can make your band listen to the lines on your drive up to Westchester County," Rachel suggests.</p><p>Blaine nods, but he still looks disappointed. Rachel turns towards the door, and then Blaine suddenly stands up and follows her.</p><p>And of course, that's when he starts to sing.</p><p>
  <em>I am in misery<br/>There ain't nobody who can comfort me<br/>Why won't you answer me?<br/>Your silence is slowly killing me</em>
</p><p>He dances over to them, making all kinds of pleading motions with his hands, tilting his head and pouting.</p><p>And then he goes back to his table, picks up his phone, and starts texting.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt finishes his Vogue assignment on Wednesday, and takes a break to walk around Central Park before the usual late-afternoon meeting. There are still people singing. Everywhere. But Kurt decides to focus on the sparrows instead. The birds sing, of course, but they are more interested in the bits of biscotti that Kurt tosses than in anything else. Also, there aren't any lyrics to the birds' songs. And they hop instead of dance. All in all, it's peaceful. At least until Kurt's phone starts to chime.</p><p><em>I hear you're not going to the wedding</em>. It's Mercedes. Kurt hasn't heard from her in ages.</p><p><em>I take it you're on Facebook, too,</em> Kurt replies.</p><p><em>You really should come,</em> Mercedes texts back. <em>We all want to see you. And we promise not to make you sing or anything. I don't know if Rachel told you that.</em></p><p>Kurt grins at his phone. <em>She knows not to bother me when I say NO.</em></p><p><em>Well, maybe she should start bothering you, </em>Mercedes replies. <em>You'll get a preview of my new release. I'll even let you blog about it.</em></p><p><em>I don't blog about friends,</em> Kurt responds.</p><p>
  <em>You don't blog about friends, but you sure avoid us.</em>
</p><p>Kurt doesn't know what to say to that.</p><p><em>We all miss you, Kurt, </em>Mercedes finally says. <em>Please come. You can be my plus-one if you didn't RSVP and Rachel is bringing that guy with the band. I'll even let you eat meat and cheesecake.</em></p><p>Kurt knows the messages won't stop until he relents. And he needs to get back to work. That's what he tells himself. <em>Ok. Fine.</em></p><p><em>Good,</em> Mercedes replies. <em>I expect to see you on Saturday. Wear something spectacular.</em></p><p>Kurt grins. <em>I write for the Internet. You'll be disappointed.</em></p><p><em>You can never disappoint,</em> Mercedes replies. <em>Just be there.</em></p><p>*</p><p>Rachel texts him at the end of her rehearsal. Of course, now everyone knows that Kurt promised that he would come, and he won't be able to get out of it. Rachel has plans to take a train to White Plains, and then rent a car, but she doesn't have a reservation for the car yet. Oh, and she reminds him that he will need to get a hotel room, too. Which Kurt takes care of when he gets home for the evening. He even grits his teeth and opens the envelope with the invitation, with all the information about the hotel where the ceremony and the reception will be. But when he calls, the hotel is already full. Of course it is. But there is another hotel across the street, and they have room, so Kurt makes a reservation there, instead. He'll probably want to escape after a full night of being swarmed by his high school friends, anyway.</p><p>And then Kurt goes shopping. Because none of his clothes are quite right for a wedding, and Mercedes<em> did</em> say to wear something spectacular. He almost manages to convince himself that he wants to live up to Mercedes' expectations, and that he isn't thinking about impressing Blaine. Who, seriously, is probably straight and into Rachel. He does things with her all the time, after all. Invites her to see his band. Agrees to be her plus-one for Tina's wedding. Sings outrageous songs when she's around. Wait, no, the outrageous songs are just in Kurt's head. But maybe the songs mean something, after all. The Central Park people seemed to be singing for their own reasons, not Kurt's. So maybe Blaine secretly wants to serenade Rachel or something.</p><p>Kurt is distracted, but not distracted enough to keep from finding something that's both elegant and interesting, a black jacket with a subtle pattern, a light grey shirt that's just a bit tight across his shoulder muscles, a tie that's on the border between trend-setting and classy. Kurt looks at himself in the mirror, and decides it will have to do.</p><p>*</p><p>The wedding is Saturday afternoon. Rachel has shifts at the diner on Thursday and Friday, so they barely talk about the plans. On Saturday morning, they pack their things and head out of the city. They pick up a car at the White Plains airport, and Kurt drives through the wooded suburban highways, following the directions from Siri, because Rachel is too busy talking about alternate songs that she might sing, and wondering whether Blaine's band can pull them off at the last minute. Finally, they get to the hotel, which is large enough for a ballroom and generic enough to be one of any number of chains. Rachel goes in to register, and Kurt drives across the street to check in to his own hotel.</p><p>He settles in and unpacks. Yes, it's just one night. That doesn't mean he has to leave everything in the suitcase, or dump it haphazardly in the bathroom. He ignores the repeated texts from Rachel, and then from Mercedes, telling him where to meet everyone for drinks and appetizers and photos. Eventually, the texts start to include photos, and then audio clips of people singing. Kurt pretends he doesn't see them and slowly prepares to change into his suit.</p><p>Finally, he's dressed and ready. And it's time to head over if he doesn't want to be rudely late. He takes a breath, checks his hair one more time, and heads out.</p><p>There's a crowd in the lobby, with suitcases and instruments and...</p><p>Oh. It's the band.</p><p>"Hey, Kurt!" Blaine calls. "I didn't know you'd be here."</p><p>"My friends were persuasive," Kurt replies.</p><p>"Well, yeah. But I meant here. In this hotel. I thought bride's friends were all in the other hotel, where Rachel is." Blaine walks around the drummer so he can stand by Kurt. Blaine is dressed in silvery-grey suit jacket with a black shirt, his hair tamed and gelled, and the effect manages to be simultaneously funky-musician and dapper. "Are you going over? Let me talk to the band for a bit, and I'll walk with you."</p><p>Kurt doesn't quite know what to say. He hadn't realized that Blaine would be going to the ceremony. Or staying the night. Though he probably should have figured that out.</p><p>"Thanks for waiting," Blaine says as he rejoins Kurt. "Rachel told me that I should come to the ceremony, because I'm technically her date. Plus I ended up helping set up the sound system."</p><p>"No sound crew?" Kurt jokes.</p><p>Blaine shakes his head. "We're not that professional. Plus I talked the guys into doing this at the last minute, so I ended up in charge of the logistics." They reach the door, and Blaine waves him ahead. "After you."</p><p>They don't talk much as they cross the street, then the parking lot, and finally get to the hotel lobby. And then suddenly someone yells Kurt's name, and the crowd descends on them. Or mostly on Kurt - Blaine manages to slip to the side and find Rachel, escaping the hugs and chatter and general pandemonium.</p><p>Finally, Mercedes loops her arm through Kurt's and guides him into the ballroom. "Tina is going to kill all of us if we're not seated in time," she says. "And also I'm singing the processional." She slides to the end of the row, where she'll be able to get out easily.</p><p>"Excuse me." It's Blaine's voice, from Kurt's other side. "Rachel's getting ready to sing, and she sent me in here. Would it be all right if I sat with you? You're the only other person I know."</p><p>Kurt nods, delighted and relieved. Blaine will be a good buffer against all the old friends. Plus, of course, he'll be a good distraction if all the emotions get overwhelming. And he smells good.</p><p>And then the ceremony starts. It's quite nice. Lovely singing by Mercedes as the wedding party enters, and by Rachel and Mercedes together as the bride and groom arrive. Simple and heartfelt vows. No difficulties getting the rings onto the fingers. A family-friendly kiss. And then a recessional song from Santana and Rachel.</p><p>Mercedes dabs her eyes as she stands to leave. Kurt finds that he's sniffling a little, too, even though he doesn't know the story behind Tina's relationship. She looks happy, which is the most important thing. He glances over at Blaine, whose eyes are red and wet-looking.</p><p>"Sorry," Blaine whispers. "Weddings. You know?"</p><p>Kurt hasn't been to a full wedding in a long time. Not since his dad married Carole, in fact. Kurt tries not to think about that, and just nods. But then Mercedes is extending her elbow, expecting to be escorted in style to the hors d'oeuvres that are set up on tables in the lobby. Kurt smiles at her and takes her arm, following Blaine down the aisle. But then Blaine excuses himself, to help set up the ballroom for the music to come.</p><p>It isn't long before the ballroom has been rearranged into a dance floor surrounded by round dinner tables, and the group can move back inside. Tina appears to have arranged the McKinley crowd by the order in which they joined New Directions, which means that Kurt and Mercedes are seated with Artie, Artie's girlfriend, and Rachel. Oh, and Blaine, though Blaine eats quickly so he can join the band. So Blaine is gone by the time the best man gives his speech, and before the various members of New Directions start telling embarrassing stories about Tina. It seems weirdly awkward to have Tina's ex-boyfriends there, especially when Rachel starts telling about Tina's fake stutter, but Artie and Mike both seem genuinely happy for her.</p><p>And then the band comes out.</p><p>"Hi," Blaine says. "Thanks for letting us play here tonight. As a few of you know, I used to be your competition, back in high school. It's nice to have the chance to sing with all of your amazing voices." He's testing out the mic, but he's also warming up the room.</p><p>"Where's he from again?" Artie asks. "Not Vocal Adrenaline."</p><p>"Dalton," Rachel and Mercedes answer.</p><p>Artie tilts his head and frowns. "Ok. Maybe I can see it. He just looks wrong without the blazer."</p><p>Blaine counts down, and the band starts the song that Tina chose for their first dance. It segues smoothly into the parent-child dance.</p><p>And then Blaine picks up the mic and grins. "Just so you know, this song is on the <em>Brides</em> magazine list of the top 100 most requested wedding songs," he says. "It's a good song for toasts. Plus Tina approved it. I'm not trying to start a big high school show choir rivalry or anything." He turns to the band, counts down, and proceeds to sing <em>Raise Your Glass</em>.</p><p>"Oh," Artie says. "It's <em>that</em> guy."</p><p>But Blaine makes up for it by bringing up the New Directions alums, a few at a time. Rachel and Blaine sing <em>In Your Eyes</em> together, and then Artie goes up to sing <em>Get Down Tonight</em>, and then they start cycling through songs that the McKinley crew remember singing together, including everything ever sung by Journey and Madonna and Stevie Wonder, until finally the entire group is up on stage singing <em>Celebration</em>.</p><p>Artie's girlfriend looks over at Kurt. "Weren't you part of the show choir?" she asks.</p><p>Kurt shrugs. "I'd rather listen to them than sing myself."</p><p>And then it's time for a break. Blaine's hair is coming loose from his gel, and he's glowing with sweat from dancing and singing with all the different combinations of McKinley alums. He picks up the mic and promises that they'll be back after a short break (and maybe a trip to the bar). Rachel comes back to the table and sits down, smiling hard. And it's fair that she's proud. It was her idea to recruit Blaine's band, after all, and they are clearly a hit with everyone. The band unplugs their instruments and starts to leave the stage.</p><p>And then, Blaine spins around and starts dancing across the emptying floor.</p><p>
  <em>I think I love you<br/>So what am I so afraid of?<br/>I'm afraid that I'm not sure of<br/>A love there is no cure for<br/><br/>I think I love you<br/>Isn't that what life is made of?<br/>Though it worries me to say<br/>That I've never felt this way</em>
</p><p>He dances towards the table where Kurt and Rachel are sitting, flinging his arms open wide.</p><p>And then he turns around and walks away.</p><p>Kurt glances at the others at the table, but it's clear that none of them saw anything. In fact, Mercedes is hinting that Kurt should go get her a drink, since he's the one who hasn't been singing and dancing all set.</p><p>Kurt stands, shakes his head to clear it, and makes his way to the bar.</p><p>Santana joins him in line. "Ok, Porcelain. Can you pass on a request? Because Brittany and I want to sing <em>Ain't No Mountain High Enough</em>, and I don't think Berry has it on her setlist."</p><p>"If I see Blaine before the next set starts, I'll let him know," Kurt replies.</p><p>"You know, your boyfriend doesn't seem bad for a Warbler," Santana comments. Well, it's Santana, so that's a pretty extreme compliment.</p><p>But also... "He's not my boyfriend," Kurt corrects her. "He's working with Rachel, and they spend a lot of time together. In fact, I think he might be into her."</p><p>Santana stares at him. "Give it to me." She holds out her hand.</p><p>Kurt frowns at her. "Give what to you?"</p><p>"Your gay card," Santana says. "Hand it over."</p><p>Kurt stares at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."</p><p>"Seriously?" Santana stares at him. "Look. I realize that your social skills might have atrophied, living with Berry all these years. But I never thought your gaydar would stop working." She shakes her head. "Blaine is totally gay. And if you can't see it, there's something very wrong with you."</p><p>"He's as gay as the Yuletide." Brittany leans around Santana. "And you should totally go after that. I think he's into <em>you</em>, not Rachel."</p><p>But then it's Kurt's turn to order drinks. He gets some wine for Mercedes and a seltzer water for himself, and heads back to the table.</p><p>*</p><p>The second set is rowdier than the first one. At some point, someone challenges Blaine to a series of mash-offs, and the entire thing escalates until nobody is sure which songs they're singing. And then Artie discovers that Blaine shares his love of every song ever sung by Michael Jackson, and there are a couple decades worth of hits to work with.</p><p>Mercedes and Rachel flop back into their seats, happy to pass the singing duties on to other people for once. Mercedes takes a sip of her water, and leans past Kurt to talk to Rachel.</p><p>"Thanks for suggesting Kurt's boyfriend's band," Mercedes says. "They're really fun."</p><p>"I know," Rachel preens.</p><p>"Wait," Kurt says. "Why does everyone think that Blaine is my boyfriend?"</p><p>Mercedes frowns at him. "Because he's a cute gay guy who sings and keeps staring at you? Like, all the time?"</p><p>Kurt starts shaking his head, and then he looks at Rachel. She looks... guilty.</p><p>"RACHEL." Kurt glares at her. "What."</p><p>"It's true," Rachel admits. "I mean, not that Blaine is Kurt's boyfriend." She looks around. "Don't tell him that I told you. But he's been trying to get me to tell him about you. For ages. Since our first rehearsal, even."</p><p>"That's impossible," Kurt argues. "He didn't even know me at your first rehearsal."</p><p>"He saw you talking to me at the diner," Rachel explains. "That night when I got the part. You might not have noticed him, but he was there, with a bunch of his NYU friends."</p><p>Oh, Kurt most certainly remembered.</p><p>"I know I promised never to set you up with anyone ever again," Rachel apologized. "And I didn't set you up. I DIDN'T. But Kurt, it's been nine years since we made those promises." She gives him her most cajoling smile. "And Kurt, he seems really nice."</p><p>Kurt sighs. "He does seem really nice," he agrees.</p><p>"You're both staying in the same hotel, right?" Rachel asks. "The one across the street?"</p><p>Kurt nods slowly.</p><p>"So... if you like him... and it seems like you do... you could talk to him tonight. Wait in the lobby until he's got the band taken care of. Ask him to have a drink with you. Or a late-night snack. Or something." Rachel looks hopefully at him. "Kurt, he'll say yes to anything you ask."</p><p>Kurt takes a sip of his seltzer water and turns to watch the band. Blaine is trading lines with Artie, grinning widely. And then he looks over at the table and meets Kurt's eyes.</p><p>Holy. Shit. They're right. Kurt's heart starts racing as he stares back. Blaine's eyes widen. And then Kurt looks away, because Blaine is still performing and Rachel's right, Kurt can totally talk to Blaine more at the other hotel. Away from Kurt's nosy-but-well-meaning friends.</p><p>The set goes on, and on. And it's ok, because Blaine is really cute when he sings. And Kurt plans to tell him that.</p><p>And then finally the dancing seems to wind down. First the groom's tiny niece falls asleep in one of the groomsmen's arms, and a small crowd of people slip out to put the child to bed. Then Tina's parents start to look tired, and Tina and her new husband start dancing a little too close, like maybe they're not so fond of all those clothes. Blaine notices, and calls everyone out for one last song together. He looks at Kurt, as if hoping that Kurt will join them this time, but Kurt shakes his head. It's a big enough step to go chasing after a cute guy. Kurt isn't going to screw it up by singing badly, out of practice. Or worse, trying to sing and finding that nothing comes out.</p><p>The caterers start picking up the glasses and plates, and Rachel and Mercedes and Artie head for their rooms. Kurt congratulates Tina and her husband one more time, and sneaks a glance at the band. They're still unplugging cords and carrying drums out to their van, and it looks like it will take a while. So Kurt takes a breath and walks back to his hotel alone.</p><p>He has a plan. He will sit in one of the lobby chairs, reading news on his phone, until the band arrives. Maybe he'll offer to help move equipment. But he'll definitely tell Blaine that the band sounded great, and that singing for that long probably made him thirsty, and maybe he would like to get a drink?</p><p>Kurt looks up at the moon as he starts to cross the street towards his hotel. It's a beautiful night, and it's about to get better.</p><p>He never sees the car that hits him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kurt's going to be ok. Promise.</p><p>And also, I know how this ends. I just need to write it.</p><p>Hope everyone reading is healthy and remains that way. Stay away from people. Don't be a disease vector.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. These nights never seem to go to plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kurt hates hospitals. So Rachel and Blaine make sure he doesn't have to be there alone.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Setlist:</p><p>I Want to Hold Your Hand (The Beatles, but imagine shifting Kurt's version from season 2 into a key that suits Blaine better)<br/>Stay With Me (Sam Smith: https://youtu.be/pB-5XG-DbAA)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Don't move." Kurt doesn't recognize the voice. And he isn't sure where he is, or why he's lying down. "An ambulance is coming. They'll be here soon."</p><p>"What...?" Kurt isn't even sure what question to ask.</p><p>"You got hit by a car. Is there anyone I can call?" There are a couple people there, it seems like, but Kurt doesn't recognize their faces.</p><p>And then suddenly there's a familiar voice. "Oh, shit. Kurt!" Blaine leans over him, then looks up at the other people. "What the hell happened?"</p><p>"He was crossing the street and a car hit him," the other person said. "The police and ambulance are on their way."</p><p>"Ok. Kurt, listen, it's going to be ok, just hang in there." Blaine's voice is a little shaky, which freaks Kurt out more than anything, because it means things are Definitely Not Ok, and why does he need an ambulance, that means it's bad, oh shit, not a hospital.</p><p>A bright light shines in Kurt's face, and he turns his head. "I'm a police officer," the new person says. "The ambulance will be here soon. Can you tell me your name?"</p><p>"Kurt Hummel," Kurt replies.</p><p>"Where are you right now?"</p><p>"By the hotel where Tina was getting married. I don't remember the name." Kurt is worried. Is that a detail that he should remember?</p><p>"What day of the week is it?"</p><p>"Saturday... no, maybe it's Sunday by now, is it after midnight?" Kurt frowns.</p><p>"Can you tell me what happened?"</p><p>"I was walking back to my hotel..." Kurt tries to remember. "And I was looking at the moon."</p><p>There are more lights. "Hi, I'm an EMT. I understand you were hit by a car?"</p><p>Why do people keep asking him that? "That's what I've been told."</p><p>And then the EMT carefully touches him on the neck, makes him squeeze her hand, has him wiggle his feet, and then starts asking more questions, allergies and drugs and what parts of his body hurt, poking and prodding as she works her way down his body on each side. Kurt winces. His leg hurts. No, his arm. No, his head.</p><p>"OH MY GOD KURT!" Actually, it's Kurt's ears that hurt, because Rachel is here and she's freaking out.</p><p>But then Blaine says something and Rachel is gone again, and it's just Kurt and the EMT, or a bunch of EMTs, and they're putting him on a stretcher and they're lifting him into the ambulance and putting a blood pressure cuff on him and sticking things on his chest and shit he's going to the hospital and people die in hospitals and Kurt definitely does not want to die before he can tell Blaine that his band was great and his eyes are amazing and his butt is cute. And he hopes that he hasn't said any of that out loud.</p><p>"Is there anyone we should call?" the EMT asks.</p><p>"That was my roommate, she knows who to call, tell Rachel what happened..." Kurt looks around, frantic.</p><p>The EMT disappears, and they're off, and it's just Kurt and the EMTs in the ambulance, and Kurt knows that Rachel isn't going to come across as even remotely sane under the circumstances but he really hopes that she'll figure out some way to follow the ambulance because Kurt does NOT want to be in a hospital alone.</p><p>The ambulance stops and they wheel him out and through a door and then there are more lights and he's in a room and they're checking his temperature and putting on the blood pressure cuff again and someone sticks a needle in his arm. And they talk to him about needing to do some scan thing to check for spinal injuries and Kurt wonders if Artie could teach him how to drive a wheelchair and it's cold. It's so cold. He can't stop shivering. They put a blanket on him, and make him squeeze their fingers and wiggle his toes again, and that's got to be a good sign if he can wiggle his toes because he's pretty sure that Artie can't do that. And then they wheel him into another room and lift him onto a cold board and stick his head in a tunnel and tell him to hold still and how can you hold still when you're in a freaky futuristic tunnel that hums and beeps. And then they wheel him out and suddenly there's nobody there and Kurt's all alone and maybe being poked and prodded wasn't so bad after all.</p><p>"Oh my god, Kurt, they finally let us in, we had to call Carole and she gave permission but I think you're going to have to sign something." It's Rachel. Kurt has never been happier to hear her completely insane breathless ramblings.</p><p>"Give him some space, Rachel." Blaine is there, too. And despite Blaine's suggestion, both of them are leaning over Kurt's face.</p><p>"Oh my god, your head," Rachel cries.</p><p>Her face disappears, and Kurt can hear Blaine whispering something to her. Blaine's face reappears. "Hey. Do you need anything?"</p><p>Yes. Kurt needs to not be in a hospital. But apparently that is not an option. But he can manage, maybe, if Blaine's voice doesn't go away. "Talk to me," Kurt whispers.</p><p>"He doesn't like hospitals," Rachel says.</p><p>"I can see that," Blaine replies. "Kurt, what do you want us to talk about?"</p><p>Kurt doesn't care. "Anything," he says. "Your band's next gig. Where you got that gorgeous jacket. Gossip from your last rehearsal."</p><p>"We can run lines," Blaine suggests. So they do. Blaine and Rachel run through each of their scenes, and it helps, listening to their voices and hearing them argue about what their characters really meant and whether they were emphasizing the right words.</p><p>And then the doctor comes back in. "I'm afraid you've got a cracked rib," he says. "We're going to need to do another CT scan, and then do some other x-rays, where your leg hurts."</p><p>And then they're wheeling Kurt out again, and putting him in that weird tunnel, and making him hold his breath and lie still and Kurt wonders whether the weird plastic tunnel is actually some kind of bizarre coffin. And then they turn him so they can take the leg x-ray, and holy shit it hurts to move, no wonder he's in the emergency room, maybe everything is broken and they're going to have to put him back together with baling wire and super glue.</p><p>Rachel and Blaine are still there when they wheel Kurt back. And then they practice their lines again, though their voices are shakier.</p><p>Finally, the doctor comes back. "We need to keep you in the hospital tonight," he says. "You've got four broken ribs, and we need to keep an eye on your lung. The nurse will take you up to your room in a moment." He pauses to look for something. "I need to stitch this up first, though." And he does something to Kurt's head. It hurts a bit, and then it's numb, and then there is a dull feeling. "That's two staples. You've got a cut on your head, along with a nice bump. Let the nurse know if you feel nauseous or get a headache or have a ringing in your ears."</p><p>"Good thing the band wasn't too loud tonight," Kurt jokes.</p><p>"Your leg isn't broken. It looks like it's just bruised." The doctor disappears from Kurt's view, then comes back with a clipboard. "There's just a few things for you to sign..."</p><p>Kurt scrawls something. Eek. It hurts to lift his hand.</p><p>"Can anyone come with him?" Rachel asks.</p><p>"He just signed permission for visitors," the doctor said. "So yes."</p><p>Kurt takes a breath. And shit, it hurts. Everything hurts. But at least he won't be alone.</p><p>And then they are wheeling him into the hallway and into an elevator. Rachel and Blaine are with him, talking to him, and he tries to focus on their voices and not on the antiseptic smell and the fluorescent lights and the way everything reeks of death.</p><p>Another couple nurses, or maybe they're orderlies, or maybe they're just some random pair of other people lift him carefully onto a bed and tilt it. They check his temperature and everything again, and tape something to his finger, and adjust the tubes in his arm, and crap, when did he get all those tubes in his arm.</p><p>"You should try to sleep," the nurse says. "I'm going to give you some morphine for tonight. Ok?"</p><p>Kurt nods, even though narcotics sound like seriously bad news, because at this point everything hurts and he's scared and he isn't sure if he's ever going to sleep again.</p><p>And then he feels something warm creep through his arm and his brain, and the world disappears.</p><p>*</p><p>"Just need to check your vital signs." Kurt isn't sure who's talking, but something cool runs across his forehead and someone lifts his arm to put on the blood pressure cuff. And then they're done, and he's alone in a room with blinking lights on something high-tech, and he doesn't know if the blinking lights are good news or bad news.</p><p>"Hey." It's Blaine's voice, and there's Blaine's face to go with it, leaning over him. "It's ok. It's going to be ok. Just breathe." Blaine's eyes glow in the dim light, and Kurt is nearly loopy enough to say something about them.</p><p>Blaine sits back. And then he stands and starts to sing softly.</p><p>
  <em>I'll </em>
  <br/>
  <em>tell you something<br/>I think you'll understand<br/>Then I'll</em>
  <br/>
  <em>say that something<br/>I wanna hold your hand</em>
</p><p>And it's not the up-tempo version that the Beatles recorded. It's a slow version, more like what Kurt sang to the Glee Club after his dad's heart attack. Or the version that he sang at his father's funeral. But it's in a different key, Blaine's key, and there's a little undercurrent of hopefulness, too. Just like there always is when Blaine is around.</p><p>Kurt blinks, and realizes that Blaine is back in his chair. It takes effort, with the drugs making his body loose and lazy, but Kurt manages to raise his hand just enough to catch Blaine's attention.</p><p>"What do you need?" Blaine asks. "They put a cup of water here for you. You can drink a little if you need it, though I guess you've got an IV, so you probably don't."</p><p>Kurt tries to stretch his hand farther. And then Blaine realizes what he wants, and scoots his chair closer, until he can catch Kurt's hand in his own.</p><p>Blaine's thumb traces slow circles on the back of Kurt's hand, and Kurt slips back into something like sleep.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel and Mercedes are sitting in the room when Kurt wakes up again. He's glad to see them, really. But he wonders whether he hallucinated seeing Blaine during the night. Does morphine cause hallucinations? Kurt has no idea.</p><p>"We sent Blaine to get some sleep," Rachel says. "He was here all night." So not hallucinating. That's good. Because that would probably mean a concussion or a brain injury or a tumor or something. No. Wait. You don't get a tumor from being hit by a car.</p><p>"Everybody wanted to come see you, but we convinced them to let us bring you a card, instead." Mercedes holds it close enough for Kurt to read. It must be Brittany's work, because it's in crayon and Kurt isn't quite sure what the cats in the pictures are supposed to be doing.</p><p>"Kurt, they want you to stay in the hospital for at least today. I can go get your things from your hotel room if you give me your key card." Rachel frowns. "They put your things into a bag, didn't they? Do you remember where your card was?"</p><p>"In my wallet," Kurt says. "I think. And my wallet was in my pocket. They took off my pants. And cut off my jacket." Damn it. He liked that jacket.</p><p>"Ok, I'm going to go through your things now," Rachel warns him as she turns to dig through the bag. "Found it. I'll be back in a bit. But Mercedes will stay with you while I'm gone."</p><p>Kurt nods.</p><p>When Rachel is gone, Mercedes offers to sing everything from the new album that she's working on. Everything hurts, even after the nurse comes in with a bunch of pills. But eventually, Mercedes' voice lulls him to sleep.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel is back by the time the first doctor comes in. There are several of them, actually, plus x-ray technicians and the nurse and the people who bring breakfast and lunch. They're worried about pneumonia and make Kurt breathe into a weird bong-like thing, not that Kurt has used a bong, but one of his New York hook-ups used to smoke weed. But that's not the point. The point is that broken ribs can poke holes in a lung, and then the lung collapses, and oh shit if it doesn't get better soon they'll stick a tube in his chest and Kurt really doesn't want that. So he sucks on his bong, several times an hour.</p><p>And then another doctor tells him that he doesn't have any broken bones in his leg, but his knee has something hurt and it doesn't need surgery but it sounds like it's going to hurt while it heals and also walking up stairs maybe won't be happening. Which is bad, because he and Rachel don't have an elevator to their place.</p><p>They make him move around a bit. He has to pee, so that's good. But even getting to the bathroom with a walker is hard. It hurts. Everything hurts.</p><p>And then they leave him alone for a bit, and he finally falls asleep again.</p><p>*</p><p>The next time Kurt wakes up, Blaine is back.</p><p>"Mercedes had to catch her flight back to LA," he says. "And Rachel went to return your rental car. The drummer from my band is going to give her a ride back into the city. He's got family up here, so he's coming back. He can get anything you want from your place."</p><p>But before Kurt can answer, the nurse is back to take his temperature and blood pressure and pulse. "The doctor wants you to stay another night," she says. "They want to keep an eye on your breathing."</p><p>Kurt's chest tightens at the thought. And then it hurts, and he winces. The nurse hands him a cup with a couple pills in it, and a glass of water. Kurt swallows them, one at a time, and she leaves.</p><p>"Hey," Blaine says. "It's going to be ok. I'm going to stay here tonight, and then Rachel will come back up in the morning."</p><p>Kurt frowns. "Don't you have rehearsal?"</p><p>"They're working on some other scenes tomorrow," Blaine explains.</p><p>Ok. But still...</p><p>"Kurt," Blaine says seriously. "We're not going to just leave you here. I'll stay up here as long as I need to."</p><p>Kurt keeps frowning at him. At this point, he's willing to accept that Blaine is gay, and probably kind of into him, even though the hand-holding last night might have been a drug-induced hallucination. But something is weird. "Why...?"</p><p>Blaine shrugs. "You're afraid of hospitals," he says. "Rachel wouldn't tell me why, but she said we couldn't leave you alone."</p><p>Right. But Rachel is his roommate, and knows exactly why Kurt doesn't like hospitals. Blaine is just this cute guy, and yeah, maybe Kurt's crush on him is actually mutual. But people don't spend multiple nights in a hospital chair for a crush.</p><p>Blaine blinks, and then takes a breath. "Kurt," he says. "I need to tell you something. And it's going to sound kind of crazy, and maybe a little creepy, but please just listen."</p><p>Kurt starts to laugh, but it hurts his ribs. "It might be easier for me to listen than to talk," Kurt admits.</p><p>Blaine nods. "I'm really sorry that it hurts so much," he says. And then he closes his eyes, like he's gathering his thoughts or his courage or something. "Ok. You're the first person I've told about this," he says. "But... sometimes I hear things. Well, not exactly things. Music. People singing."</p><p>Kurt stares at him.</p><p>"Which might not seem so weird, for someone who's trying to make it on Broadway. But I've been hearing people sing for a long time. Ever since I remember. It's probably why I was drawn to the Warblers, why I liked picking out songs and matching them with people. It's why I found people to sing with as soon as I got to college." Blaine shrugs.</p><p>Kurt tilts his head. Or tries to. He's leaning back against a pillow, and his back and shoulder really hurt when he moves.</p><p>"So one night..." Blaine stops, then tries again. "I was at this club with my friends. It was the night after the callbacks for the play, and some of my other friends were playing there. We figured we could support them, relax, have a few drinks. And then, in the middle of the set break, this guy stood up and started singing. He was really attractive..." Blaine glances away. "But that wasn't what struck me the most. Honestly, that's never been the first thing that I notice about anyone, not when I can hear them sing. But this song... <em>Blackbird,</em> the Beatles song... it was the most achingly beautiful thing I've ever heard."</p><p>Kurt sucks in a breath. That was the song that he had tried to sing at Finn's funeral. The song he just couldn't make himself sing. Every year, he tries to forget that. At the club that night, with Rachel, after her callback, when they got too drunk to remember the band...</p><p>"I've heard a lot of people singing, but I've never heard that much... feeling." Blaine bites his lip. "I've honestly never been so moved by a song. Ever. And I knew then that I needed to meet that guy." He looks down, and then deep into Kurt's eyes. "So when I saw you talking to Rachel at the Spotlight Diner, the night when we heard that we got the roles..." He shrugs.</p><p>Kurt just stares at him, not sure what to say.</p><p>Blaine looks worried. "Rachel wouldn't tell me much about you." He's as rushed now as he was careful before. "It's clear that she cares a lot about you, and she would do anything to protect you. And I don't mean to pry. It's just... every now and then, I hear you singing. Even though you won't sing out loud." He bites his lip again, and then looks up, hopefully. "Like last night, there was a moment during the second set..." He shrugs. "I know it's really intrusive, like I'm some kind of weird stalker. So if you want me to go... I mean, I'll wait until Rachel gets back tomorrow, I won't leave you here alone. But I won't keep stalking you if this makes you uncomfortable."</p><p>Kurt isn't sure what to say. Or rather, he isn't sure how to say it. <em>Yes I want you to stay and also I hear you singing to me all the time and it's kind of cheesy but I think I'm a little in love with you.</em></p><p>Blaine's eyes go unfocused for a moment, and then a smile slowly stretches across his face. "Ok," he says.</p><p>Kurt blinks at him. "Did I just sing...?"</p><p>Blaine nods. "<em>Stay With Me</em>," he says. "You know, the Sam Smith song?"</p><p>Kurt nods. Though if he remembers correctly, the song is about a one-night stand. But it doesn't matter, because it seems to have gotten the point across.</p><p>Blaine reaches for Kurt's hand, and Kurt reaches back. And eventually, Kurt falls asleep to the feel of guitar callouses rubbing against his palm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>FYI.. this is what it’s like after being hit by a car. Except for the singing bit.</p><p>I think I managed to eventually reveal all of the songs that Blaine heard Kurt sing, except for one: during Tina's wedding reception, in the second set, Blaine hears Kurt sing the "I think I love you" line from ABC (Jackson 5). I think that's one of the lines that Kurt sings in that song during Season 3.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. No, no, no, you're not alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hospitals are awful. But less awful when there's someone who can hear you.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>Everybody Hurts (R.E.M.: https://youtu.be/5rOiW_xY-kc)<br/>Defying Gravity</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pain shoots through Kurt's back and shoulder, and it hurts so much that he can't breathe. It's the middle of the night. He fumbles for the button to call a nurse, but he drops it before he can press it, and it falls out of his reach. He tries to roll a little to one side, or to lift his bad arm. But. Ouch. Shit. And then his heart starts pounding, because he's in a hospital and he can't move and everything hurts.</p><p>"Hey." Blaine is suddenly there, standing, looking at him. "What do you need?"</p><p>"I don't know." Kurt squeezes his eyes shut to keep the tears from leaking out. "I don't know."</p><p>"Do you need the nurse?" Blaine looks around for the call button, then finds it and picks it up. "She could probably get those painkillers that you wouldn't take earlier."</p><p>Kurt tries to breathe. Shit, it hurts.</p><p>Blaine looks worried. "Kurt..." He pauses. "You're singing <em>Everybody Hurts</em>. Please don't tell me you're ok."</p><p>Kurt tries to lie still, and then finally nods. "Yes," he says. "You're right. Please help me call the nurse."</p><p>Blaine pushes the button and tells the nurse that Kurt needs his painkillers. "Why didn't you take them earlier?" he frets. "The nurse told you that the second night would be worse."</p><p>"Didn't want narcotics." Kurt grits his teeth. "Don't like my brain being fuzzy."</p><p>"Well, you need something to help you sleep," Blaine scolds. "And to help you keep breathing deeply."</p><p>Part of Kurt wants to snap back at him. But another part just likes being taken care of, being worried over. So he tries to relax, and then takes the pill when the nurse arrives.</p><p>It takes a while to kick in, but finally the pain fades and the world gets blurry, and Kurt falls into something like sleep.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt wakes up to a new nurse taking his temperature and pulse. He looks around for Blaine, but Rachel is sitting there, instead.</p><p>"Good morning!" She sounds perkier than she did yesterday, but there are worry lines around her eyes. "How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Like my head is stuffed with that gross stuff that's in your comforter," Kurt admits. "What time is it?"</p><p>"Eight a.m.," Rachel replies. "It's hard to get up here from the city. The traffic is crazy."</p><p>"You drove?" Kurt wonders where she got a car.</p><p>"One of Blaine's friends does a reverse commute," she replies. "I got a ride with him. Oh, and I brought you some clean clothes."</p><p>"Which would be nice, if they didn't require that I wear this oh-so-stylish uniform." Kurt looks down at the hospital gown. His face feels gross, and his hair is crusty.</p><p>The nurse comes back in and hands him some pills. "Acetominophen," she says. "And stool softener. Your notes say that you're worried about what you're taking."</p><p>Kurt nods. "Thanks."</p><p>After that, Kurt's brain settles into something a bit more normal. Yes, everything hurts. But the bed tilts up, and he can eat and check his phone messages and, oh crap, he needs to tell Isabelle what happened. He wonders if he can tap out a column on his phone, left-handed, and whether his writing will still have an edge when he's all muzzy on painkillers. And when he's obsessing about the cute guy who hears him singing and spends the night taking care of him.</p><p>"So..." Rachel looks at him. "How are things going with Blaine?"</p><p><em>Does Rachel read minds by hearing people sing, too? </em>Oh, shit, what if this is something that every show-choir kid can do? Kurt panics for a moment, and then realizes that there is no way that everyone hears the same things that he and Blaine do. For instance, Santana can't possibly have secret insights into people. Or, god, Quinn. If either of them had this kind of power, they would have taken over the world already.</p><p>Rachel is waiting for an answer.</p><p>"What do you mean?" Kurt asks. As innocently as humanly possible.</p><p>"When I got here this morning, Blaine was sitting in this chair. Asleep. Leaning against your bed, and holding your hand." Rachel looks at Kurt, like she expects some seriously juicy gossip.</p><p>"Rachel." Kurt shakes his head. And his muscles must be loosening up, because it doesn't hurt as much. "I've got broken ribs. It hurts to breathe, and to turn, and to move my arm. Plus my leg feels like somebody worked it over with a meat tenderizer."</p><p>"Ooo. Yuck." Rachel makes her <em>don't talk to me about meat</em> face.</p><p>"There is no way that anything remotely sexual is going to happen in a hospital room." Kurt rolls his eyes at her. "He's being nice."</p><p>"Very nice," Rachel agrees. Then she pauses. "Are you sorry that I didn't set you up with him before? I didn't know if you were interested..."</p><p>Kurt sighs. "It's fine. We can get to know each other now. I just have to avoid being a total asshole while I'm healing."</p><p>Rachel looks amused.</p><p>"Because you know I'm going to be," Kurt says.</p><p>"It's true," Rachel agrees. "You were awful that time you had the flu."</p><p>"Which you gave to me," Kurt points out. "After I nursed you through yours."</p><p>"Fair enough," Rachel concedes. It's quicker than normal. But maybe Rachel's working hard to be considerate, under the circumstances.</p><p>The day stretches on. The x-ray people come in and wheel Kurt away to look at his lungs again. And then all these other people start to arrive. Nurses checking his vital signs, and making him drink more water and breathe into his bong thing. An occupational therapist, with a long list of things that he'll need when he checks out. Like a walker, because his knee is a mess and he can't use crutches with his broken ribs.</p><p>Blaine returns in the late morning, just in time for the doctor to give Kurt his update. The lung isn't better yet, but it isn't worse. Kurt doesn't need a chest tube, at least for now, but he can't go home yet. He needs to practice breathing more, and move around, and then they'll see how he's doing. Rachel bites her lip and looks worried. Blaine asks a lot of questions and takes notes. When the doctor is done, it's time for lunch. Kurt gets himself settled, while Rachel and Blaine go into a corner and whisper with each other. He ignores them, because it's hard enough to eat the weird turkey thing without dumping it on his lap. But when he's done, they come over, wearing matching we-need-to-have-a-serious-talk looks.</p><p>"Kurt," Rachel says. "You know all those stairs on the way up to our place in Bushwick?"</p><p>Kurt nods. The occupational therapist had asked about stairs, and looked concerned when he explained the situation.</p><p>"Blaine lives on the ground floor," Rachel says.</p><p>Blaine nods. "You can stay with me while you're recovering," he offers.</p><p>Kurt's heart starts racing.</p><p>"It wouldn't be a problem at all," Blaine continues. "I've got a couch with a memory foam mattress that my brother bought me after one too many bad nights visiting. It would be easy to get onto and off of, better than a bed."</p><p>"I would come check on you every day," Rachel promises. "I wouldn't be abandoning you."</p><p>"And my mom's a doctor," Blaine says. "So I've got someone to call for medical advice."</p><p>"That's why he was asking all those questions when the doctor was in here," Rachel explains. "And why he took notes and didn't freak out."</p><p>"I took notes because my dad's a lawyer," Blaine corrected her. "And because that's what good Dalton boys are supposed to do." Blaine's hair is gelled again, after looking fairly wild last night; he looks the <em>good Dalton boy</em> part again.</p><p>"What do you think?" Rachel looks concerned.</p><p>Blaine looks carefully at Kurt, and then turns to Rachel. "I just realized that neither of us have had lunch. And you've got dietary restrictions. Would you mind running down to the coffee shop and grabbing a couple salads? I'll eat anything." He pulls some cash out of his wallet and hands it to her.</p><p>Rachel narrows her eyes at him, wondering what he's up to. But Kurt nods at her, and she looks amused, like she expects a full-fledged romance with plenty of gossip by the time she gets back.</p><p>As soon as she leaves the room, Blaine looks seriously at Kurt. "Would it be ok, staying at my place?" Blaine asks. "I mean, given that I can hear you singing."</p><p>Kurt ponders the possibility. "Would I keep you awake?" he asks. "I woke you up last night, didn't I?"</p><p>"Only when you were awake and hurting," Blaine says. "I don't hear people dreaming. I had roommates in college, and I only heard them when they were awake. Or drunk. Or had girls over." Blaine shakes his head. "Anyway. I think it would be good if you could wake me up if you needed something." He pauses. "But I mean, it kind of violates your privacy."</p><p>It's a great opportunity for Kurt to explain that he can hear Blaine singing, too, so the whole privacy violation is actually mutual. Kurt even considers saying something. But then he chickens out. "It doesn't bother me," he finally says.</p><p>Blaine nods. "If you're ok with it... I would be delighted and honored to have you as my guest."</p><p>Kurt feels like he should get up and bow in reply, but the lunch tray is still in his way, and he's not sure he could pull off a bow without making pain shoot through his back. "It's a deal," he says instead.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel heads back to the city, but not until Blaine's friend shows up with a bag of supplies. Mostly clothes that Kurt can wear when the doctor is ready for him to leave. Sweat pants. A huge flannel shirt. Kurt looks at them in horror.</p><p>"It would be too hard for you to get into your usual pants," Blaine explains after Rachel leaves. "They're... umm..."</p><p>Ok. Fine. Kurt wears tight pants. And Blaine's right, it would be hard to pull them on over his swollen leg, especially when Kurt can't really bend his knee or stretch out his arm. And, sure. The large shirt might be easier to get on, too. But there's still something horrifying about the whole situation.</p><p>"We'll sneak you out," Blaine promises. "And I won't take any pictures."</p><p>Kurt glares at him, but finally relents. Really, anything but a hospital gown would be nice.</p><p>The physical therapist comes by, and makes Kurt practice walking, slowly, with the walker. Getting up is hard. Standing makes him dizzy. But, yes, he knows it's important to move, and he wants to get out of this hospital as soon as humanly possible.</p><p>When he's done, Blaine gives him a fond look.</p><p>"What." Kurt frowns at him. "Was I singing?"</p><p>"<em>Defying Gravity</em>," Blaine admits. "And you looked so determined, too."</p><p>Kurt shakes his head. "I have no idea that I'm doing it," he admits. "It's weird."</p><p>"Do you want me to tell you when you're singing?" Blaine asks. "I mean, I can. It's just..." He looks guilty. "I don't want to interrupt it. It's amazing to listen to."</p><p>Kurt thinks it would be a lot more enjoyable if he were doing it on purpose. Good grief. What weird things leak out of his brain, besides<em> Blackbird</em> and <em>Defying Gravity</em> and complaints about pain?</p><p>*</p><p>Blaine spends the night in the chair, again. Kurt reluctantly takes the painkillers, which means that he sleeps through more of the night. But the nurse still comes in every now and then, checking his temperature and everything.</p><p>Early in the morning, the x-ray technicians show up again. Blaine is bleary-eyed, but he talks to them while they're making Kurt lean forward and back and take deep breaths and generally do the weirdest posing he has ever had to do for a picture. The doctor comes by and tells him that his lung is looking better, and Kurt can leave today, but will need to get checked again in a week, and keep breathing deeply.</p><p>And then it's quiet, while they wait for paperwork.</p><p>Kurt looks down at the hospital gown. "I need a shower," he says.</p><p>Blaine looks at him.</p><p>"Please tell me I'm not singing." Kurt blinks at him.</p><p>"No," Blaine says. "Just... sorry. Distracted. Do you want the nurse to help? Or I can help you get in there." He gets up and looks in the little rest room. "There's a seat in the shower, and a hose. And there's some generic shampoo."</p><p>It won't be ideal, but it will be better than the smell of several unwashed days in a hospital. Kurt grits his teeth and swings his legs down. Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's waist and helps him to his feet, and then Kurt slowly pushes the walker into the bathroom.</p><p>"Yell if you need anything," Blaine says.</p><p>"Or sing, I guess, huh," Kurt jokes.</p><p>"Yeah," Blaine says. But he's serious. He goes back into the main room and returns with a bag of clothes. "Here's the stuff from your place," he says. "And here are the sweatpants and the big shirt."</p><p>Kurt is thankful that everything hurts too much for him to fantasize about Blaine while he's in the shower. (What would Kurt sing, he wonders? He's not ready to find out.) Kurt just closes the door behind him, and pulls off the horrid hospital gown. He's been wearing the same underwear for days, and he pulls it down, as well. He should probably just burn it, honestly, it feels so disgusting. And then he hobbles to the shower seat and turns on the water.</p><p>It feels so good. He can only lift the hose with one hand, but it's enough to spray the water on his head. And his face. Oh. Wow. Water is magic. He feels so filthy that even the disgusting hospital soap and shampoo feels good. There's blood in his hair - he can tell because it rinses out, little by little, and finally, his hair stops feeling so stiff. Of course, it's going to dry all straight and floppy, which will be embarrassing when he's going to spend the night with a cute guy. But at least it won't be caked in blood and smelling like antiseptic and a hospital bed and stale sweat.</p><p>Kurt finally shuts off the water and rubs a towel over his hair. It's difficult; he can't lift his bad arm over his head. He looks through the clothes and finds one of his own shirts. It IS hard to get buttoned, but this one isn't too tight, and Kurt likes its color, at least. The pants, though... he gives up and puts on the sweatpants. Even with the loose legs, it's hard to get them all the way on, with his leg not bending and one arm not working. And Kurt's not as flexible as he was when he used to dance all the time. But he finally looks halfway decent, except that he can't get his comb all the way up to his head, and his hair is still a disaster.</p><p>There's a knock on the door. "Is everything all right?" Blaine asks.</p><p>Kurt hobbles to the door and opens it. "I wasn't singing, was I?" he asks.</p><p>"No," Blaine says. "It's just been a while." He looks Kurt over.</p><p>Kurt blushes. "I can't reach my hair," he admits. "It's going to be a disaster."</p><p>"I can comb it," Blaine offers.</p><p>Kurt looks skeptical.</p><p>"I can comb hair!" Blaine argues. "Straight hair can't be that hard to deal with. Can it?"</p><p>Kurt just laughs. "Ok. But I get to veto the style. Or the gel." Blaine's hair has partly escaped from his gelmet overnight, and it looks adorably ridiculous.</p><p>Blaine pulls a chair into the bathroom. "Here. Sit down so I can see the top of your head."</p><p>"And so I don't collapse," Kurt adds.</p><p>"That, too." Blaine carefully tugs out a tangle. "Let me know if this hurts, ok?"</p><p>"Hospital conditioner is the worst," Kurt grumbles.</p><p>"You've got stitches back here, too," Blaine says. "I'm just going to stay away from them." He tugs a little more, and then stands back. "Ok?"</p><p>Kurt's hair flops like it did when he was sixteen, and he kind of hates it. But he isn't quite sure that he trusts Blaine with any kind of product, given the gel-or-chaos dichotomy of Blaine's hair. Plus Kurt is suddenly exhausted, like the warm shower water and the standing and the sitting have sapped every bit of his strength. "I think I need to get back to the bed."</p><p>Blaine pulls over the walker and helps Kurt stand again, and then follows him all the way to the bed.</p><p>"If I lie on my hair it will be a disaster," Kurt mumbles.</p><p>"Not going to judge you for that," Blaine says. "You got hit by a car." He helps rearrange the pillows. "Just rest, ok?"</p><p>Kurt leans back. "Ok."</p><p>Blaine makes sure the call button for the nurse is in place, and the blankets are tucked around Kurt, and generally fusses until Kurt stops him.</p><p>"I'm set," Kurt says. "Thank you." He looks Blaine over. He looks tired and disheveled, and it's kind of cute, but it doesn't look comfortable. "You could use the shower, too, if you want." Blaine's suitcase is pushed into the corner of the room; Blaine checked out of his hotel before Rachel went back to the city, and brought all his stuff to the hospital.</p><p>Blaine sighes. "You'll be ok?"</p><p>"You'll hear me singing if I'm not," Kurt assures him.</p><p>Kurt has fallen back to sleep before the bathroom door closes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. So take a chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Blaine's apartment.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>Teenage Dream<br/>Help (The Beatles)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt wakes up to a flurry of visitors and paperwork. Physical therapists, making sure that he knows how to walk up stairs with his bad knee and injured ribs. Occupational therapists, suggesting some kind of bed thing to let him sleep propped up, and weird tools for picking up things on the floor, and ways to put on pants and socks. A pharmacist, with a long list of drugs.</p><p>"No," Kurt says. "No oxycontin. No."</p><p>"Are you sure?" The pharmacist looks skeptical. "Broken ribs are painful."</p><p>"Absolutely," Kurt replies. He's stubborn about it. And Blaine, to Kurt's surprise, just goes with it, making sure that he knows the best way to alternate ibuprofen and acetaminophen to keep from messing up some internal organ or another.</p><p>And then the drummer shows up, and helps Blaine gather all of the chaotic mess of things, and an orderly helps Kurt into a wheelchair and pushes him out to the car. Kurt gets in the front seat - his legs don't fold very well, and there's more room for him in the front. Blaine and all the stuff squeeze into the back. And then they're winding down suburban streets and getting onto a highway and driving back into the city.</p><p>Kurt glances into the back seat. He hasn't heard Blaine sing in over a day, now. And yeah, it was goofy and absurd, and Kurt enjoys the talking and hand-holding and hair-brushing that has replaced it. But he also kind of misses the singing, in some weird way.</p><p>Blaine's head is leaning against the window, his curls flattened against the glass, mouth half open. Sound asleep.</p><p>Kurt wonders if he looks like that in bed, too.</p><p>*</p><p>Blaine's apartment does have steps. Not that many. But some. Blaine and the drummer carry all the stuff inside. There's more than just what was in the hospital; apparently Blaine had asked his friend to get a few things, like a huge triangular pillow to help with sleeping. And then they come back, and Blaine reaches in to help Kurt get out of the car, then wraps an arm around him. They climb the stairs slowly, following the physical therapist's instructions. Bad leg straight, good leg bent. It takes forever, and there are only six steps. And then there's the door, and they're through and inside. The drummer follows with the walker. Blaine thanks him, and he leaves.</p><p>And then it is just Kurt and Blaine and Blaine's apartment.</p><p>There's a sofa in the middle of the main room, with the triangular pillow already set up on it. Another chair. A television, with a gaming system attached. Shelves with books and photos. A guitar leaning against one wall. Four doors. Blaine opens one and puts his jacket away. Ok. So that one is a closet. The one without a door looks like it goes into a kitchen. And the others...</p><p>"The bathroom's here." Blaine opens one of the doors and shows Kurt. "There's a stool thing over the toilet, so you won't have to bend so far. But I'll have to help you into the shower." He comes out and points to another room. "That's my bedroom." He doesn't go in, though Kurt is suddenly curious about it. "I can help you put your things in the bathroom. Just a second - I'll put my stuff up higher, so you don't have to reach."</p><p>Kurt peers around him and watches him move hair gel and toothpaste and shaving oil up high, onto a shelf that Blaine can barely reach.</p><p>Blaine steps back. "Do you want to put your own stuff in here?" he asks. "So you know where everything is? Or I can do it, if you're tired."</p><p>Kurt IS tired, but he also wants a tiny bit of control over everything. Over the face cream and the hair product and the toothbrush. It's not much, but he appreciates the fact that Blaine understands.</p><p>When he's done, he discovers that Blaine has found some pillows and a blanket and a cup with an attached straw. There are a lot of primary colors, which is a bit of a surprise; Blaine usually dresses in black and grey, and the bright things seem out of place. "I've had some of this stuff since college," Blaine apologizes. "Hopefully it isn't gross."</p><p>It isn't. Not even the water cup. Kurt looks at the cup, and then at the bottles of drugs.</p><p>Blaine pulls out a notebook. "I'm going to write down what you take, and when," he says. "You're going to need to make sure you take the right painkiller at the right time." He opens one of the bottles. "Tylenol now," he says. "Ibuprofen in four hours. Do you think you can make it?"</p><p>Kurt shrugs, but takes the pills.</p><p>Blaine's phone buzzes. He glances at the screen. "Rachel's going to come over soon," he says. "She's at your place, grabbing some of your things. What do you need?"</p><p>Kurt rolls his eyes. "I'll just call her."</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel arrives in a whirlwind of bags. "Your laptop," she says, putting it on the floor. "Socks. Jacket. Underwear. Shirts. Scarves." She puts the bags on the floor, one at a time. "Oh, and here is a card from Isabelle and everyone at Vogue. They wanted to send you flowers, but I told them not to."</p><p>Kurt nods, and puts the card aside.</p><p>"Everyone misses you at rehearsal," Rachel says to Blaine. "The second act feels really different."</p><p>Blaine nods, but doesn't say very much.</p><p>So Rachel prattles on with the stories, who flubbed the lines and who was fighting and who was secretly planning to backstab someone. The usual gossip. When she leaves, she looks like she wants to give Kurt a hug, but holds back. "It will hurt if I hug you, won't it," she worries.</p><p>Kurt sighs. "Yes," he says. "It will hurt. Everything hurts."</p><p>"Well, this will be better than Bushwick," she says, looking around. "Nice couch."</p><p>"My brother bought it," Blaine explains. "He whined for a year about the old futon that I used to have."</p><p>"Well, this will be good," she says. "You can get off of this couch, right, Kurt? Better than you would with that old thing that we've got at our place?"</p><p>Kurt is turned sideways, back against the triangular pillow, bad knee propped on a pillow. "It's still hard," he admits. "Turning hurts."</p><p>Blaine is there in a second, helping to support Kurt so he can get his feet underneath him, then stand.</p><p>"Well, that works," Rachel says. She looks at Blaine. "Take care of him."</p><p>"I promise," Blaine replies.</p><p>She watches him for a moment, then nods. "I'd better get home," she says. "Get better fast, Kurt. I miss you." And then she's gone.</p><p>Kurt watches her leave, then narrows his eyes at Blaine. "You skipped rehearsal."</p><p>Blaine glances away. "My understudy will do a great job," he says.</p><p>Kurt stares at him. "You gave up the part?"</p><p>Blaine nods.</p><p>Oh, shit. "Seriously?" Kurt starts shaking his head. "Rachel's going to kill me. She loves playing opposite you. She thinks this is her big break, that the two of you were going to steal every scene..."</p><p>"Rachel knows," Blaine interrupts. "I talked to her about it already. She's just glad someone could stay with you."</p><p>"Bu... but..." Kurt stammers, then takes a breath and gathers his thoughts. "But it's not just her big break, it's yours too, you can't just give up a part to take care of someone you barely know, it's insane, this is no way to start a relationship..."</p><p>Blaine looks like he wants to interrupt, but then softens when Kurt says <em>relationship</em>. And, oh shit, Kurt actually said that out loud. Two days in a hospital and he's ready to get married or something. And people said that only lesbians did things like that.</p><p>"I mean..." Kurt starts.</p><p>Blaine pulls the other chair closer to the couch and sits, so his face is at the same level as Kurt's. "Kurt," he says. "I know this is weird. And it's hard to explain. But it's like I told you. When I heard you singing in my head... I've never felt that way before."</p><p>Kurt looks back at him. "You don't even really know me..."</p><p>Blaine shrugs. "I've been hearing people sing in my head for a long time. It's like... like having a window into their soul. And what I see through that window, with you...  I don't know what it is. All I know is that when you sing, my heart... it just breaks." He keeps looking at Kurt. "I've never felt this way about anyone before."</p><p>Kurt licks his lips. Mostly involuntarily.</p><p>Blaine glances down, then back up, and sighs. "The doctor said you could get pneumonia," he says.</p><p>Kurt frowns. "Huh?"</p><p>"I don't want you to catch anything," Blaine explains. And then he looks like he has just realized that he left out part of the context. "If I kiss you," he says. "If I kiss you, and I have a cold or something, and you get it, and then you get sick while your lungs are healing..."</p><p>"Oh..." Kurt blinks. <em>Blaine wants to kiss him. </em>If he were wearing anything tighter than the baggy sweatpants, they would reveal a lot more than a song would. "I'll have to heal fast, then," he whispers.</p><p>A smile creeps across Blaine's face.</p><p>And then he stands up, spins around, and starts to sing.</p><p>
  <em>You make me feel </em>
  <br/>
  <em>like I'm living a </em>
  <br/>
  <em>teen..age... dream<br/>The way you turn me on<br/>I... can't... sleep<br/>Let's run away<br/>And don't ever look back<br/>Don't ever look back</em>
</p><p>And Kurt just has to laugh. He can't help himself. It just bubbles out, this is so crazy, what the hell is going on, oh shit laughing hurts his ribs...</p><p>And then Blaine is sitting in the chair again, staring at him. And he looks upset.</p><p>"Blaine...?" It's hard to stop laughing, but Kurt manages to get that one word out, at least.</p><p>"It's not a joke," Blaine says as he stands. "I wasn't kidding. I meant it." He shakes his head, then turns and stalks towards the kitchen. "I'm going to make dinner."</p><p>"Blaine..." Kurt stares after him. Shit. Somehow he's managed to fuck this up already. He tries to stand, to run after Blaine and make him talk, or listen, or something. But Kurt puts too much weight on his bad arm and he twists and suddenly pain is shooting through his back and he can't get his leg to swing around to the ground and the walker is too far away to reach anyway.</p><p>Blaine comes running back, looking both upset and worried. "You're singing <em>Help</em>," he says. "The Beatles."</p><p>Kurt grits his teeth. "I was trying to chase after you and make a dramatic confession," he says. "But I can't even get to my fucking feet."</p><p>Blaine looks at him. Right. The dramatic confession could happen here, too. But now that Blaine is here, Kurt isn't quite sure what to say.</p><p>He closes his eyes. <em>Just say it.</em> "You know how you can hear people singing?" He opens his eyes so he can gauge Blaine's reaction.</p><p>Blaine nods.</p><p>"Well... I can, too." He pauses, but Blaine doesn't say anything. "I know I should have told you right away when you told me, or when you said I could stay here, you were worried about violating my privacy and I didn't even tell you this..."</p><p>Blaine blushes. "How bad was it?"</p><p>Kurt shakes his head. "How bad was what?"</p><p>"What I sung," Blaine says.</p><p>"Huh?"  Kurt blinks. "You've got a great voice."</p><p>"But horrible taste," Blaine finishes. "I know my earworms. What was I singing?"</p><p>"A pop song from several years ago," Kurt says. "Something about a teenage dream."</p><p>Blaine winces. "Katy Perry," he says. "We used to sing that in high school." He looks guilty. Or embarrassed. "Look, I've read your blog, I know what you think of pop..."</p><p>Oh.</p><p>"What else have I sung?" Blaine looks worried.</p><p>"Elton John, the one about <em>this is your song</em>, at the Spotlight Diner, the night that you saw me and Rachel," Kurt says. "Um. The Beatles song about saying hello." Blaine looks relieved, like he figures the Beatles are safe from the harshest musical criticism. "Oh, and <em>Cheeseburger in Paradise</em> while you were cooking a vegan dinner, that first time you came over to our place."</p><p>Blaine squeezes his eyes closed. "Sorry."</p><p>"Blaine." Kurt tries to move so he can look Blaine in the eye, but it just sends more shooting pains down Kurt's back. "It's.... it's kind of charming."</p><p>Blaine opens his eyes. "Really?"</p><p>Kurt gives him an amused look. "I mean, I never realized that someone could sing about buns and meat with that much sincerity."</p><p>"Kill me now," Blaine murmurs.</p><p>Kurt holds out his hands, hoping that Blaine will take the hint and grab them, because it is kind of awkward and painful to lean for long. Fortunately, Blaine notices and catches them. "I like hearing you sing," he says. "Even when the songs are silly."</p><p>Blaine looks up at that, and starts to smile.</p><p>"And that was a happy laugh," Kurt adds. "Though maybe I shouldn't do too much of it."</p><p>"Because it's too ridiculous?" Blaine asks.</p><p>"Because it hurts," Kurt corrects him. "Broken ribs. Remember?" He sighs. "Blaine, I don't laugh very much. I don't know about windows into people's souls. I didn't even realize that the singing in my head meant anything, I just ignored it, until I heard you. This is new." He looks into Blaine's eyes. "But I think I like it."</p><p>Blaine nods slowly and strokes the back of Kurt's hands. "You need to heal quickly," Blaine says.</p><p>Kurt agrees. Because he's already fantasizing about make-up sex, and they haven't even kissed yet.</p><p>"I really should cook dinner," Blaine apologizes.</p><p>Kurt nods, and watches Blaine's butt disappear into the kitchen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The feeling's plain to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hearing someone sing in your head is like seeing them naked.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note change in rating from Mature to Explicit. I think I crossed the line here.</p><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>I Melt with You (Modern English: https://youtu.be/LuN6gs0AJls)<br/>I Want a New Drug (Huey Lewis and the News: https://youtu.be/N6uEMOeDZsA)<br/>Silly Love Songs (Paul McCartney: https://youtu.be/ap87QgZKTNw, and, you know, the Warblers...)<br/>In the Air Tonight (Phil Collins: https://youtu.be/YkADj0TPrJA)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I'll stop the world and melt with you...</em>
</p><p>Blaine is in the kitchen, singing out loud, singing to whatever food he's cooking. From the sizzling sound, it's either grilled cheese sandwiches or an omelet. It's been like this for the past three days - it's as if Kurt has given Blaine permission to sing whatever is in his head, and Blaine is taking full advantage of it. Singing in the shower. Singing in the kitchen. Blaine's real-world dancing is a bit more self-conscious, but also deliberately flirty. On the whole, it's a good thing.</p><p>Like this morning, when Kurt took his Tylenol. He was grumpy, because, dammit, everything hurt, and he hadn't been able to sleep very well, and his bruised leg was swelling up and he had only showered once in the past three days and it was awkward and a little scary and not nearly as sexy as he had wished.</p><p>And then Blaine had looked at him sympathetically and sung.</p><p>
  <em>I want a new drug, one that won't go away<br/>
One that won't keep me up all night<br/>
One that won't make me sleep all day<br/>
One that won't make me nervous<br/>
Wonderin' what to do<br/>
One that makes me feel like I feel when I'm with you</em>
</p><p>And Kurt couldn't help but laugh, and swallow the pills, and be just a little bit turned on by it all.</p><p>Kurt is still smiling when Blaine comes out of the kitchen, carrying something that looks like an omelet, smothered in vegetables and some kind of sauce. There's a little tray on a stand that sits by the couch, and Blaine puts the food on it before helping Kurt swing his legs down and sit all the way up. And then Blaine goes back into the kitchen to get his own food, and they sit together on the couch, eating and sneaking glances at one another.</p><p>*</p><p>Showering is <em>hard</em>.</p><p>And not <em>hard</em> as in <em>sexually arousing</em>. <em>Hard</em> as in <em>difficult</em>. Blaine's shower is in a bathtub. A tub that requires lifting up one leg while balancing on the other, and then lifting the other leg and stepping in. There's nothing to hold onto, especially for someone with broken ribs and a right arm that won't raise above his nipples.</p><p>Or rather, the only thing to hold onto is the cute guy who is taking care of Kurt.</p><p>Which means that showers have to go like this. Kurt goes into the bathroom, closes the door halfway, and strips off his clothes. He has to sit on the toilet to get the pants off - even though he's still wearing the loose sweatpants, he can't bend his left leg enough to reach his foot, and he doesn't trust his balance. And then, when he's finally naked, he wraps a towel around his waist and opens the door. Blaine comes in, and loops his arm around Kurt's waist, and keeps him from falling as Kurt carefully steps, one foot at a time, into the shower. Kurt leans on the wall while Blaine pulls the shower curtain mostly closed, and Kurt hands the towel out. And then there's warm water, and that's nice, and Kurt even has his own shampoo and conditioner and body wash, which is even nicer because Blaine's hair is so different from Kurt's and needs an entirely different type of product. But then when Kurt shuts the water off, they have to go through the same process in reverse, Blaine handing the towel in so Kurt can dry off, Kurt carefully stepping out of the shower and dressing bit by bit while sitting on the toilet seat. The towel slips once or twice, and Blaine politely averts his eyes while Kurt readjusts. Once, Blaine even has to pick up the towel from the floor and hand it back.</p><p>It's the kind of thing that Kurt might have fantasized about in the past. But it's just exhausting, standing for so long, and the evaporating water is cold and saps every bit of his strength. When he's done, he doesn't have the energy to style his hair; he can barely get the comb through it. And then he leaves the bathroom and collapses on the couch, dozing but not really sleeping.</p><p>Kurt uses Zoom to join a vogue.com meeting. (Before the meeting, he fights with his hair until it's presentable. Fortunately, the laptop's camera doesn't show his sweatpants.) Everyone is happy to see him alive, but the laptop is heavy and it's hard to follow the discussion when everything hurts and he is so tired. Isabelle gives him an assignment for the next week, but only if he can do it, and Kurt is just relieved that somehow, he has found a genuinely kind boss in all the crazy of the working world.</p><p>Blaine goes out to get groceries while Kurt naps. He comes back with more of Kurt's favorite body wash, as well as a mixture of meat and vegetables and makings for something complicated and chocolate.</p><p>*</p><p>On the fifth day, which is a week after the accident, Kurt's leg swells up. Blaine calls his mother for advice, and then goes out to the pharmacy. He comes back with some hideous stocking material to compress Kurt's leg. It's atrocious, but Blaine swears that his mother says it might help. Kurt lies on the couch and elevates his leg on a pile of pillows and wonders when it is ever going to get better.</p><p>*</p><p>On the seventh day, the swelling has gone down a bit, and Kurt is able to sit up on the couch with his laptop. He's trying to write his article, or at least that's what he tells himself. Really, he's flipping through images from a designer, looking for inspiration. Blaine is sitting in the chair, cross-legged in the seat, playing around with his guitar. He strums a chord, then stops, then tries another one. There's a notebook balanced on one of the arms, and every now and then Blaine stops strumming, picks up the notebook, and writes in it.</p><p>Kurt gives up trying to work on his article, puts his laptop on the end table, and just watches Blaine. He's so absorbed in whatever he's doing, all wild curls and distraction, totally unaware that he's being watched. Or that Kurt can hear the music in Blaine's head. It's different from normal; usually, Blaine's singing has this glorious over-the-top quality, fully committed to even the most absurd pop lyrics, with an earnestness and joy that is infectious. But right now, Blaine's words are tentative. He tries one, then stops, then tries something else.</p><p>He's writing. Blaine is writing a song. And Kurt is able to hear the entire creative process.</p><p>It's fascinating, what it has in common with writing words. There are moments when the music just spills out of Blaine's head, and others when he tests different notes in combination with the chords, or different rhythms, and goes back to his notebook to furiously erase something.</p><p>By the time Blaine looks up, it's been going on for maybe fifteen minutes, maybe half an hour, maybe an eternity. But when he finally glances at Kurt, the music goes silent.</p><p>"Don't stop," Kurt says softly. "I didn't know that you wrote your own music."</p><p>Blaine shrugs, as if he's embarrassed, and looks at his guitar. "I didn't realize you could hear it," he says.</p><p>"It doesn't bother me," Kurt replies.</p><p>But the music in Blaine's head doesn't come back.</p><p>"I thought your band only played covers...?" Kurt finally asks, when it's clear that he's managed to ruin Blaine's songwriting concentration.</p><p>"We do," Blaine confirms. "I'm not writing for the band."</p><p>"Why not?" Kurt is genuinely curious.</p><p>Blaine laughs. It's self-deprecating, not like Blaine's usual laugh. "You know my musical taste," Blaine says. "What I write is worse. I don't want to inflict my song-writing on people I want to impress." He looks sheepishly at Kurt. "Including you. Sorry about that."</p><p>"It's fine," Kurt tries to reassure him. "It's fascinating. I'm curious."</p><p>Blaine tilts his head and shakes it, ever so slightly. But he turns back to his guitar and tries to strum it again.</p><p>There's no humming, or singing, or anything else. Not for a while. But then Blaine's voice is in Kurt's head again. Quietly at first.</p><p><em>You'd think that people would have had enough of silly love songs</em> <em><br/>
I look around me and I see it isn't so<br/>
Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs<br/>
And what's wrong with that<br/>
I'd like to know</em></p><p>It's not Blaine's song, not this time. Kurt recognizes it, and knows most of the words. And he wants Blaine to know that it's ok, that there's something sweet and endearing about wanting to write love songs, no matter how silly they are.</p><p>So Kurt joins in, harmonizing. Singing the counterpoint lines, about "<em>he gave it all to me</em>."</p><p>Blaine looks up, startled. He stops strumming the guitar, but he keeps singing in his head. And Kurt keeps harmonizing, until the song is over, and Blaine is just staring silently at him.</p><p>"Did... did you just sing along with my earworm?" Blaine finally asks.</p><p>Kurt nods. "I heard you singing in my head," he says. Probably unnecessarily.</p><p>"I heard you," Blaine explains. Also unnecessarily. "It was..."</p><p>"Weird?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"Amazing," Blaine corrects him.</p><p>Kurt blinks.</p><p>"Kurt, when I hear other people singing..." Blaine stops.</p><p>"It's like a window into their soul," Kurt finishes. "You've told me."</p><p>"It's more than that," Blaine says. "It's like... seeing them naked."</p><p>Kurt blushes.</p><p>"Singing with another person, in my head... it's like being with them. Like being with <em>you</em>." Blaine is having trouble getting the words out.</p><p>"You mean being together naked," Kurt finishes.</p><p>Blaine nods. And then he shakes himself and unfolds his legs, putting the guitar on the floor beside the chair. "I... excuse me. Please. I think I need to go take a shower." He stands. His pants look conspicuously tented in the front.</p><p>"You mean you're going to go masturbate," Kurt says, still softly.</p><p>Blaine squeezes his eyes shut and nods.</p><p>"You know I'll hear you singing," Kurt adds. "If you're worried about being naked in front of me."</p><p>Blaine opens his eyes and blinks.</p><p>"You could just do it out here," Kurt suggests.</p><p>Blaine stares at him.</p><p>"I've masturbated while imagining you singing before," Kurt admits. "Before the accident."</p><p>"What are you saying...?" Blaine finally asks.</p><p>"If you're going to be essentially naked to me anyway," Kurt says, "I would like to watch." He bites his lip. "Actually, I could tell you what I would do to you. With you. If I could move around comfortably."</p><p>Blaine's eyes widen.</p><p>"Think of it like phone sex," Kurt says. "Only without the phone."</p><p>Blaine turns around and picks up the guitar. "I'm. Ummm. Going to put this in its case." He is silent until he has latched the case shut, then turns to Kurt. "Ok."</p><p>"Ok?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"Yes," Blaine clarifies. "Tell me what you would do to me. And... I'll do it."</p><p>"I think you should sit down first," Kurt suggests. "But turn the chair. So I can see you."</p><p>Blaine takes a slow breath, then goes back to his chair and shifts it a bit. "Like that?"</p><p>"A little more," Kurt says. "Now... take off your belt."</p><p>Blaine's hands are visibly shaking as he loosens the buckle, then pulls his belt out of its loops and sets it on the floor.</p><p>"And now your pants." Kurt would give more explicit directions, but he isn't quite sure how Blaine's pants close. He knows all the styles. He has just been avoiding looking <em>there</em>. Until now, that is.</p><p>Blaine pulls his pants down. He is wearing bright red boxer briefs underneath the black jeans. More primary colors, Kurt notices, at least on things that the rest of the world can't see.</p><p>"Are you hard?" Kurt whispers.</p><p>Blaine nods.</p><p>"Run your hand along your cock," Kurt says. "Outside your underwear. For now."</p><p>Blaine leans back and closes his eyes for a moment, then runs his fingers down along one side of the growing bulge, then up along the other.</p><p>Kurt nods. "Good. Now you can take off your underwear."</p><p>Blaine hooks his fingers under the waistband, lifts his hips, and shoves his underwear down. His cock springs free.</p><p>Kurt just watches for a moment. "You're gorgeous," he says. "You know that, don't you?"</p><p>Blaine just closes his eyes again.</p><p>"If I were over there..." Kurt closes his hand. He's reaching out, involuntarily. He needs to make sure that he doesn't twist his shoulder and ruin the moment with pain. "If I were over there. I would run my fingers along your penis. Slowly. From the head, to the base, and back to the head."</p><p>Blaine reaches down and touches himself lightly.</p><p>"Are you starting to leak pre-cum?" Kurt asks.</p><p>Blaine nods.</p><p>"If I were touching you... I would slide my fingers into your pre-cum, and then rub them along your penis." Kurt watches, wishing he could feel as well as see. "And then... I would probably ask you what feels good."</p><p>Blaine sighs. "It all feels good," he admits.</p><p>"Show me what you would do for yourself," Kurt requests. "Please."</p><p>Blaine reaches down and strokes, slowly first, then faster.</p><p>And then Kurt hears Blaine singing, inside his head.</p><p>
  <em>I can feel it coming in the air tonight, hold on</em><br/>
<em>And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life, hold on</em>
</p><p>Kurt joins in, not even trying to harmonize, just unison this time. Blaine doesn't sing the verse - just the chorus. Because before the chorus is done, Blaine is gasping, eyes closed, and his orgasm face is just as glorious and ridiculous as Kurt had imagined. Kurt watches as Blaine slowly descends from the peak, eyes still shut until he has stopped shuddering.</p><p>"Holy shit," Blaine whispers.</p><p>Kurt grins at him.</p><p>Blaine glances around at the discarded clothes. "I'm. Ummm. Going to go clean up now."</p><p>Kurt nods, lifts his legs, and turns, so he is lying back on the couch. Fuck. Now he's the one who is aroused, picturing Blaine's fingers around his cock and Blaine's orgasm face and... Kurt is reaching down with his good hand when he hears Blaine come out of the bathroom.</p><p>Blaine is dressed again, and looks shy. And then he holds up a condom.</p><p>Kurt blinks. "It's not that I don't want to," he says. "But I've got broken ribs. I don't think I should."</p><p>Blaine blushes. "I was thinking of something that wouldn't require you moving," he says. "Not even your hand."</p><p>Kurt sets his hand aside. "I'm ok."</p><p>Blaine shakes his head. "Your pants tell a different story." He closes his eyes for a moment. "Let me be more specific. Would you like a blow job?"</p><p>Kurt blinks. "Um. Yes." But then he shakes his head. "But Blaine, are you sure you want to? You didn't even look at me when my towel fell off in the shower, the other day."</p><p>"Singing together - in our heads - is more intimate than a shower," Blaine says. "Plus you just talked me through a pretty spectacular orgasm. And you sang with me while I came." He shrugs. "That went well beyond getting naked together."</p><p>"Kissing is going to be anticlimactic," Kurt points out.</p><p>"I disagree," Blaine says. "But we'll have to wait and see. Until the doctor says your lungs are ok."</p><p>"Right." Talking about lungs is definitely not as sexy as talking about blow jobs. "Well, if you want to..."</p><p>"I do," Blaine says. "Lie still. Don't do anything. I'll take care of it all."</p><p>And he does. He nudges down Kurt's sweatpants, then his underwear. He unrolls the condom, slowly, so it's like foreplay, sliding his fingers along Kurt's shaft. Kurt wishes he could feel the guitar callouses, but safe is good, there will be time to get tested and to feel Blaine's hands on him and everything. But before Kurt has imagined too much of the future of this relationship, Blaine's mouth is on him and Blaine is sucking and his tongue is sliding along Kurt's shaft and head and Kurt is already tightening and then the entire world explodes into flashing lights and Kurt just lets everything go.</p><p>When he opens his eyes, Blaine is smiling down at him. It's Blaine's delighted smile, and Kurt immediately knows there was music involved. "What did I sing?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"There weren't any words," Blaine says. "Just... a note. That got higher and higher until you came."</p><p>Kurt winces. "Sorry."</p><p>"Don't be," Blaine says. "It was incredible." He carefully slips the condom off of Kurt's softening penis, then cleans Kurt up with a damp cloth and pulls up Kurt's pants. "You didn't hurt anything?"</p><p>"Nothing," Kurt says. In fact, his muscles, even in his back near his broken ribs, feel looser than they have in days. Since before the accident. Since the night he masturbated while imagining Blaine, to be honest. He smiles as Blaine pulls a blanket over him.</p><p>"Get some rest," Blaine whispers, and runs a finger down Kurt's cheek.</p><p>Kurt is asleep in minutes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Riding higher than the sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kurt's lung is finally better.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack</p><p>Kiss You All Over (Exile: https://youtu.be/8GymGszRFN8)<br/>Kiss on my List (Hall &amp; Oates: https://youtu.be/AYUdldNzLNA)<br/>Kisses Sweeter Than Wine (Peter, Paul and Mary: https://youtu.be/LvbMarcf-UU)<br/>Kiss Me (Sixpence None the Richer: https://youtu.be/uEaouwm3ebA)<br/>Kiss Me in the Rain (Barbra Streisand: https://youtu.be/GQf15GfW8R4)<br/>Kisses of Fire (ABBA: https://youtu.be/c-REo5lTwns)<br/>I Want To Know What Love Is (Foreigner: https://youtu.be/raNGeq3_DtM)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt has been living in Blaine's apartment for a week. His body reminds him that it hasn't been that long - he still gets shooting pains in his shoulder if he puts his weight on it, his foot swells up if he doesn't keep it elevated, and he is just SO TIRED when he tries to do very much. But his mind feels differently. Kurt has been sitting on the couch with his laptop, trying to conjure up enough snark to write a decent article for Vogue. It shouldn't be that hard. But he keeps hearing snippets of song as Blaine goes about his business, and half the time, Kurt's mind adds a bit of harmony or a counterpoint. And then Blaine looks at him and his eyes light up. They don't have sex every time it happens, because, well, that would be a lot, and Kurt gets tired. But... yeah, Kurt has had more orgasms in the past eight hours than he has had in the previous year.</p><p>Rachel stops by to check on him. She didn't follow through with her planned one-visit-per-day, but Blaine's band wants to practice for a gig this coming weekend, so Blaine finally calls in a favor. Kurt gets a good three hours of grilling, plus a vegan soup from a kosher grocery and a week's worth of Broadway gossip. Also, it turns out that the McKinley alums had a pool going, trying to predict when Kurt and Blaine would start sleeping together. Kurt points out that he's actually sleeping on a couch so he can get in and out of bed easily, so anything involving Blaine's bed just isn't happening. Rachel doesn't accept that answer, based on the affectionate looks that Kurt and Blaine shared when Blaine headed out. She ends up dragging Mercedes into the conversation, through  a long Facetime call, but Kurt refuses to spill.</p><p>Finally Blaine returns, and Rachel has to leave, despite being unable to adequately characterize Kurt's relationship status.</p><p>*</p><p>The next day is a big one: the follow-up visit to the trauma doctor, up in Westchester County. Getting out of Blaine's apartment is tricky: Kurt leans on Blaine as they work their way down the steps, one at a time, always keeping Kurt's bad leg straight. Blaine borrows the van that his band uses to get its gear to gigs, and puts Kurt's walker into the back. Riding in the front seat takes Kurt back to his high school years, driving that ginormous SUV around. Which is both good and bad. It takes Kurt's mind off OMG HOSPITAL, but it reminds him of his father. So he's quiet. Blaine sings along with the radio, but Kurt doesn't join in, not even in his head.</p><p>They park, and then they have to get into the hospital. Kurt hobbles, ever so slowly, pushing the walker. He can balance without it now, but if he falls, it will totally suck, and he'll probably have to check back into the hospital and he doesn't want to do that. When he's finally inside, he needs to wait for the chest x-ray, and then go down the hall with the technician and strip out of his shirt and put on the awful hospital gown and hug the weird x-ray thing while holding a deep breath. And then it's done, and he puts his shirt back on and limps back to Blaine, who looks worried and is texting with someone, and Kurt's heart starts pounding until Blaine looks up and wraps Kurt's hand in his.</p><p>And then they need to get to the other side of the hospital, where the doctors have their offices. And there is paperwork, and more waiting, and it's ok because Blaine holds Kurt's hand from the very beginning this time.</p><p>The actual visit is short. Good news - the lung is better. Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand, but makes sure to ask about other things, like the swelling in Kurt's leg, and something called compartment syndrome, and how much time it takes for ribs to heal, and how to deal with the knee, and whether the pain in Kurt's shoulder is normal. They get some answers, and a lot of warnings that healing takes time, and then they head back to the van. Blaine helps Kurt get up into the front seat, and puts away the walker, and gets into the driver's seat.</p><p>And then he grins. "Your lung is better," he says.</p><p>Kurt looks worried. "But what were all those other things, why were you asking about them, who were you texting with while I was getting x-rays..."</p><p>Blaine pulls Kurt's hand toward him and kisses Kurt's knuckles. "I was chatting with my mother," Blaine explains. "She's a doctor. Remember? She gave me a list of questions to ask. And there weren't any red flags." He glances over at Kurt. "Let's get back to the city."</p><p>As they drive, Kurt hears snippets of a dozen different songs, all of which share impatience and anticipation. His heart pounds again, but this time, it's a good thing.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt hobbles up the stairs to Blaine's apartment. Fortunately, they've already handed off the van to one of Blaine's bandmates and gotten the walker put away, because Blaine's arm is around Kurt's waist, a little tighter than needed to keep Kurt upright. Plus Blaine is singing in Kurt's head.</p><p>
  <em>I want to kiss you all over</em>
  <br/>
  <em>and over again...</em>
</p><p>And Kurt is harmonizing, because, ummm, YES. Blaine fumbles with the doorknob, but finally gets it open. Kurt has to step carefully over the step, because it would suck to have his knee give out under him now, and then they're inside and the door is closed. And then they stop.</p><p>"Couch?" Blaine asks.</p><p>And Kurt has been sitting, but yeah, he figures that kissing Blaine is going to make him weak in the knees anyway, and he wants to be able to do this for a long time. A very long time.</p><p>So Blaine helps him to the couch, and sits beside him. And just looks at him for a moment, and those eyes glow, and Kurt has pretty much had it with the waiting, so he reaches out and grabs Blaine's face and pulls it towards him. Blaine doesn't need any encouragement; he leans forward.</p><p>And then their lips touch. More tentative than Kurt should have expected. After all, Blaine's lips have been on his dick, and they've been singing in each other's heads. But still. There's knowing they both want this, and there's doing it. Blaine tastes like hospital coffee, and feels... warm. Careful. Nervous. Thrilled. Kurt's tongue slides over Blaine's lips, and then their mouths are open, hungry, like they need every sensation and every taste and need it NOW.</p><p>They've been at it for some time before Kurt starts to hear Blaine singing in his head.</p><p><em>When they insist on knowing my bliss</em> <em><br/>I tell them this<br/>When they want to know what the reason is<br/>I only smile when I lie, then I tell them why</em></p><p>Hall and Oates. Ha. Kurt touches the tip of Blaine's tongue with his, and joins the song in his mind.</p><p><em>your kiss is on my list</em> <em><br/>(Because your kiss) your kiss is on my list<br/>Because your kiss is on my list of the best things in life</em></p><p>Blaine moans a little and sucks on Kurt's lower lip. Kurt closes his eyes. And then he opens them and gives Blaine a mischievous look and starts singing a different song in his mind. How well does Blaine know old folk groups?</p><p><em>Well, when I was a young man never been kissed</em> <em><br/>I got to thinkin' it over how much I had missed</em></p><p>Blaine's eyes blink open. And then he joins in.</p><p>
  <em>mmm, mmm, kisses sweeter than wine</em>
</p><p>Kurt is settling back into the kiss when he hears Blaine respond in his head.</p><p><em>Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight</em> <em><br/>Lead me out on the moonlit floor<br/>Lift your open hand<br/>Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance<br/>Silvermoon's sparkling<br/>So kiss me</em></p><p>It's from a TV show, one Kurt watched as a kid, maybe? It doesn't matter. Kurt knows it well enough to join in for a line, and then responds with another song. And yes, it's Barbra Streisand, and Rachel likes to sing it, which is why Kurt has it stuck in his head. But it's not going to be Rachel's song after this. Not any more.</p><p>
  <em>Kiss me in the rain, and make me feel like a child again</em>
</p><p>Blaine nudges his nose, then dives in more deeply, switching songs again.</p><p><em>Kisses of fire, burning, burning</em> <em><br/>I'm at the point of no returning<br/>Kisses of fire, sweet devotions<br/>Caught in a landslide of emotions</em></p><p>Oh, holy flying spaghetti monster, it's ABBA. Kurt breaks for a breath and starts laughing. "Happy laughing," Kurt gasps, before Blaine can get worried. "This is happy laughing."</p><p>"Do you want to stop? Is your back ok?" Blaine sits up straighter. They've been gradually getting more horizontal, and it's true, it's starting to twist Kurt's back.</p><p>"I hadn't noticed it," Kurt says. "But maybe sitting up again would be good." He stretches, then leans back.</p><p>"You know I could do this for hours," Blaine points out.</p><p>"Because there are that many songs about kissing?" Kurt teases.</p><p>"Because I've been wanting to do this for weeks, and I'm making up for lost time," Blaine replies.</p><p>Kurt doesn't have an answer for that, except to sing along in his head with Blaine's never-ending medley.</p><p>*</p><p>Rachel comes over on Friday, to stay with Kurt during Blaine's gig. Blaine comes out of the bathroom dressed in black, hair wild, and gives Kurt a kiss on his way out the door. Rachel barely waits until Blaine has left before she starts jumping up and down and squealing. Kurt tries to glare at her, but he can still taste Blaine's mouthwash, which means that his glare is more of a silly grin.</p><p>"I'm still sleeping on the couch." Kurt points to the pillows and blankets that make up his nest.</p><p>"Because if you got into Blaine's bed, you would never get out of it." Rachel looks delighted.</p><p>"That wasn't what I said," Kurt defends himself. "But yeah, being horizontal still hurts."</p><p>Rachel just grins at him. "You'll be horizontal soon enough."</p><p>"RACHEL. Stop." Kurt shakes his head at her. But she ignores him and texts Mercedes. And then Kurt's phone buzzes, and they need to put Mercedes on speaker while Rachel gives far more details about the relationship than Kurt had been willing to describe. But it's surprisingly ok, sitting there and listening to the girls being happy for him. Because, to be honest, he's happy for himself, too.</p><p>*</p><p>Blaine keeps singing out loud, at least when his mouth isn't otherwise occupied on various parts of Kurt's body. And Kurt joins in, in his head. And it obviously turns Blaine on, based on how often they move from singing to kissing to sex.</p><p>Kurt is lying on the couch, leaning back against the big triangular pillow, his legs on Blaine's lap. His ass and legs are completely bare, and Blaine is singing, quietly, while he gently cleans Kurt up.</p><p>
  <em>I want to feel what love is</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I want you to show me</em>
</p><p>Kurt closes his eyes and harmonizes in his head, like usual, enjoying the mixture of the song and the touch and the looseness that comes after an orgasm. But then Blaine stops singing. Kurt cracks open an eye to see what's going wrong.</p><p>Blaine is looking at him. "Why don't you ever sing along out loud?" he asks.</p><p>"I thought you liked it when we sing together in your head," Kurt replies. "Something about being naked together?"</p><p>"We're naked together already." Blaine stares pointedly at Kurt's bare groin. "One of us at a time, at least."</p><p>Kurt blinks and wriggles into a sitting position, then leans down to grab his underwear. Blaine's wearing a serious face, and Kurt feels like maybe he should put on some clothes for this discussion. When he's at least partly covered, he tries to think of a response.</p><p>But Blaine is already going into some kind of spiral. "Singing in my head is intimate. But I like singing out loud, too. It says... I feel safe letting you hear all the crazy music in my head. I trust you." He looks worried. "But maybe you don't feel the same way?"</p><p>"I do feel safe with you," Kurt says. "Blaine, I'm here in your apartment. I can barely walk. I need your help getting into the shower. I was half naked just a moment ago. Trust me, Blaine, I feel safer with you than with anyone. And that includes Rachel."</p><p>"Physically," Blaine says. "I mean emotionally."</p><p>Kurt sighs. "You know that the singing doesn't mean the same thing to me," he says.</p><p>"But you used to sing, once upon a time," Blaine says. "You were in a glee club. Your closest friends still sing. Rachel. Mercedes."</p><p>Kurt squeezes his eyes shut. "Blaine. Please." He takes a breath. "I really don't want to talk about that." He counts to three. "I love singing in my head with you. But I'm not going to sing out loud. And I don't want to talk about it."</p><p>Blaine bites his lip, clearly bothered. But eventually he nods.</p><p>But Kurt suspects that he hasn't heard the end of this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. I can't hide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kurt meets Blaine's mother.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>I Want to Hold Your Hand</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the end of the next week, Kurt is moving well enough to get to the bathroom and kitchen on his own. He even makes it down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, going for slow walks with Blaine. And Blaine is able to leave the apartment and run errands without worrying.</p><p>But today, Blaine's going to be gone for longer. He's got a voice-acting job, for some commercial, and he has to go to a studio to record it. Kurt thinks it sounds like a great break for Blaine's career, but Blaine doesn't seem to think it's a big deal, and doesn't want to talk about it. And Kurt figures that he should let Blaine have his privacy; after all, Blaine's been good about letting Kurt be.</p><p>It's not a bad thing, having a little time alone, Kurt convinces himself. He's working on another article for vogue.com. He's strong enough to sit at the kitchen table with his laptop for extended periods of time, though his shoulder starts to ache if he has to keep his arm up and typing for too long. So he can physically manage his writing when he's by himself. And maybe he'll have better luck finding his voice without so many... distractions. Distractions like Blaine's infectious singing, and his cute butt, and the intense looks that he gives Kurt with those impossible-to-ignore eyes.</p><p>Conjuring the snark is hard, ok.</p><p>So Kurt focuses on little annoying things in the clothing designs, searching for language that will amuse his audience. It takes a while, but eventually he gets there, and the words finally start to flow. He's got a draft done by the time his arm reminds him to take a break, so he moves back to the couch to rest. And that's where Kurt is when Blaine returns - eyes closed and feet up, but with the sharpness of his writing lingering in his brain.</p><p>Or at least, Kurt's eyes are closed until he hears the door. But they pop open when they realize that there isn't any singing, either out loud or in Kurt's head.</p><p>Something's off. Kurt can see it in the way that Blaine moves, in the tightness around his mouth. In the unexpected silence in Kurt's head. And Kurt doesn't know what to do. Every habit for the past ten years tells him to just leave it, to let Blaine alone, to treat him the way that Kurt has learned to treat Rachel.</p><p>But Blaine isn't Rachel. Blaine craves company, openness. And crap. Kurt is bad at this. But he needs to try.</p><p>"What?" Kurt asks. Ok, well, it probably sounds like a demand. A cranky, annoyed, bitchy little demand. And Kurt regrets it as soon as the sound leaves his mouth. "Sorry," he backtracks. "It just looks like something's bothering you. Was the commercial that bad?"</p><p>Blaine sighs. "The commercial was stupid, just like I knew it would be," he grumbles. "But that's not it." He pinches his lips together and closes his eyes for a moment, like he's gathering his courage. "My mom's coming to visit. She'll be here tomorrow."</p><p>Kurt blinks. It's a surprise, sure, but it can't be that bad. Can it? Blaine texts with his mother every day, and talks to her on the phone regularly.</p><p>"She wants to see you," Blaine elaborates.</p><p>That's new and different. But still. "Are you saying that I should be afraid of her?" Kurt tries to make it sound light, as if it's a joke. But there's still too much snark left in his brain, and he can't quite pull it off.</p><p>Blaine gives his head a little shake, like it's a gesture for himself, not an attempt to communicate. "She's a doctor," he says.</p><p>"I don't have anything against doctors," Kurt says. "Just hospitals." It doesn't sound totally sincere, maybe because it isn't. "People can do whatever work they want," he tries to explain. "I won't judge." And that falls flat, too. Because both of them know that Kurt is totally judgmental, even if he has warmed to Blaine's musical taste.</p><p>But Blaine shakes his head again, this time at Kurt. "It's..." he pauses. "It will be fine. I'm sure it will be fine. She's just worried that you're not seeing anyone, that you don't have a regular doctor, that you're not being checked."</p><p>"So this is a medical visit?" Kurt tries to understand.</p><p>"Kind of," Blaine says. "And. Well. I don't know." He takes a breath. "Are you ready for <em>meeting the parents</em>?"</p><p>Kurt shrugs. He hasn't really given much thought to it.</p><p>"I mean..." Blaine stops and bites his lip. "You've never told me about your family. Never. You don't talk about them. And here's my mom, insisting on meeting you. On meeting my <em>boyfriend</em>. But as far as I know, you've never even told your parents about me..."</p><p>Oh. Kurt closes his eyes for a moment. "Blaine. There's a reason why I've never told my parents about you. And it's not because I'm not taking this relationship seriously." He takes a breath. He never talks about this. Not with anyone. Rachel knows, of course. And Mercedes, and his other friends from high school. But. "Blaine. My parents are dead."</p><p>Blaine's mouth opens, then snaps shut. Then opens again. "Oh." He swallows. "Kurt, I'm so sorry, I had no idea..."</p><p>"I didn't tell you." Kurt looks away. "And I'd rather not talk about it. Please."</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt takes a shower, puts on the nicest shirt that he can find, and does his hair. Blaine convinces him that he shouldn't try to put on his skinny jeans in place of the sweatpants, but agrees that a scarf looks nice. At least the act of dressing stylishly seems to calm Blaine's fears that Kurt isn't that serious about this thing between them.</p><p>While Kurt is getting ready, he reviews all the information that Blaine has given him about Blaine's family. "Your parents are divorced," Kurt says. "So don't ask your mom about your dad. Your brother's an actor, too, and he's the one who got you the voice-acting job. It's ok if I don't know much about him; your mom wouldn't expect you to talk much about him." He pauses for a second. "You've got a trust fund, which is why you can deal with the rent for this apartment while you're trying to find work as an actor." Kurt had wondered about that, when he realized that Blaine didn't seem that worried about missing work to take care of him. "Your mom is an orthopedist, which means that she'll know a lot about my knee. And I should call her <em>Dr. Anderson</em>; she kept her married name, at least professionally."</p><p>Blaine nods, satisfied. His hair has so much gel in it that it might as well be painted on. He's gone full 'nice Dalton boy,' which should probably tell Kurt a lot about Blaine's mother. "You'll be all right here with her?" Blaine asks. He's going to get groceries while his mother is visiting. Which worries Kurt more than anything. He's not sure if Blaine is leaving so he can avoid something, even though Blaine assures him that it will be ok.</p><p>The doorbell rings, and Blaine goes to answer it, then comes back leading a short, neat-looking woman. She's dressed like a professional, skirt and jacket, high-end but cautiously conservative.</p><p>"Mom, this is Kurt," Blaine says.</p><p>Kurt holds out a hand to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Anderson."</p><p>She nods. "Likewise, Kurt." Kurt isn't sure if he has passed the first test yet as she turns her attention to Blaine. "You can do your errands now," she says. "The car is parked on the side street." She reaches up and kisses Blaine's cheek.</p><p>Blaine gives Kurt a look that says <em>courage</em>, and smiles at his mother. "Thanks for letting me borrow the car," he says.</p><p>"Buy healthy food," she responds.</p><p>And that's a dismissal. Blaine clearly understands, as he takes the car keys and picks up the grocery list. "I'll see you both in a little while." And then he's gone.</p><p>And Kurt is alone with Blaine's mother.</p><p>"Have a seat," she says. "Let me look at that knee." She has all the usual medical gear, stethoscope and thermometer and that thing that goes on a fingertip and the cuff that goes around Kurt's arm. And even before she looks at the knee, she's taking measurements and dictating notes into her phone. "Normally a nurse would do all this," she says. "At your regular follow-up appointment."</p><p>Kurt nods. "I know I should have a regular doctor."</p><p>"But you're in your late twenties and you think you're invincible," she finishes. "Don't look so surprised. I have two sons." She packs the tools away. "I hope your accident taught you otherwise."</p><p>Kurt grimaces, but forces himself not to respond with any snarky comments. He has many flaws, he knows, but the delusion of invincibility is not one of them.</p><p>"Let me look at your knee, now," she commands.</p><p>Kurt sits back while she pokes at him, wiggling his toes on command and letting her roll up the sweatpants. So that was why the skinny jeans would have been unwise, he realizes. Stripping out of his pants in front of Blaine's mother would have been a bit much.</p><p>Finally, she pulls the chair over. "The swelling looks like it's related to all the bruising, not to the MCL tear," she says. "I would need an MRI to tell you anything more."</p><p>Kurt nods, trying to remain calm, but his palms start to sweat. "So I need to go to the hospital?"</p><p>"No," Blaine's mother replies. "I think you'll heal all right on your own. And you don't seem to have compartment syndrome. But maybe you should wear a compression stocking or something to help with the swelling in your foot. And you should probably get a physical therapist." She pulls out a pad of paper from her bag. "I'm going to give you names of several primary care doctors. You'll need to start with an intake appointment before they can refer you." She gives him a stern look. "You have health insurance, don't you?"</p><p>Kurt nods. "Vogue is good about that."</p><p>"Glad to hear it," Dr. Anderson says. "That means you have no excuses. Get a doctor."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am." Kurt sits up straight. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn't this.</p><p>"How are your ribs?" she asks. "How much do they hurt?"</p><p>"Sometimes not much," Kurt says. "Sometimes a lot."</p><p>"What is <em>a lot</em>, on a scale of one to ten?" she pushes.</p><p>Kurt isn't sure. "Five? Six?"</p><p>"And what are you taking for pain relief?" she asks.</p><p>"Tylenol and ibuprofen," Kurt replies. "Alternating. Every four hours. Umm. Two pills of Tylenol, or three pills of ibuprofen." He looks around. "Blaine has been keeping a notebook."</p><p>Dr. Anderson nods, apparently satisfied with that answer.</p><p>"And what are your intentions with my son?" she asks.</p><p>Kurt stares at her. He had nearly forgotten that this wasn't just a typical doctor's appointment. "What... do you mean by that?"</p><p>"You've been living with Blaine for two weeks now," she says. "He gave up a role in a play to take care of you, after only knowing you for a little while. Where is this going, Kurt?"</p><p>Kurt blinks. "I... think that's something that should be between me and Blaine, for now," he says.</p><p>Her eyes narrow. "What do you want from him?"</p><p>Oh. Maybe this was why Blaine made sure that Kurt knew about the trust fund. "I'm not taking advantage of him," Kurt says. "I've got my own job. I've got an apartment and a roommate in Bushwick. I have a place to go back to, once I can deal with the subway and make it up a few flights of stairs."</p><p>She purses her lips. "Blaine falls in love at the drop of a hat," she says. "And he falls hard. I don't want him to get hurt."</p><p>Oh. So that's what this is about. Kurt closes his eyes for a moment, then looks carefully at her. "I can't promise not to hurt him," he starts. "Nobody can make a promise like that, not really. But I will take care of his heart, as best I can."</p><p>She watches him carefully for a moment. Blaine gets his hazel eyes from her; it's a little disconcerting. And then she finally nods. "Tell me about yourself." It's a complete change in subject, but maybe this is just the way she is. "What is it like, being a fashion writer?"</p><p>It's an easier topic, and Kurt relaxes a little as he talks about work. Thankfully, she doesn't grill him about his childhood in Lima, although Ohio is more common ground for them than Vogue is. Maybe Blaine had primed her about safe subjects, just like he had prepared Kurt. It's nice to imagine, at least.</p><p>It's another half hour before Blaine gets back, and his mom goes out to help him bring the groceries in. And then they make tea and eat some shortbread that Blaine picked up at the store, and they talk about people that Kurt doesn't know, neighbors in Ohio and Blaine's brother and people that Blaine must have known in high school.</p><p>But before she leaves, Blaine's mother turns to Kurt again. "Have you started getting the bills?" she asks.</p><p>Kurt blinks.</p><p>"From the emergency room visit," she elaborates. "You'll probably need to make an insurance claim against the people who hit you."</p><p>Kurt swallows. He hadn't thought of that.</p><p>"Blaine." His mother looks at him. "You should talk to your father. Tell him to help Kurt handle the insurance." She looks at Kurt. "Blaine's father is a lawyer."</p><p>Kurt nods. He thought that he wasn't supposed to talk about Blaine's dad.</p><p>But Blaine swallows and also nods. "I'll do that."</p><p>And at that, Dr. Anderson stands. "Well, then." She pulls Blaine down into a hug and kisses his cheek, then turns to Kurt. He extends his hand to shake, but she pulls him down into a hug, as well. He forces himself to relax and not show surprise. "Take care of yourselves," she commands them, and then turns and heads out the door.</p><p>Kurt stares after her.</p><p>"I think that went well," Blaine says. Though he sounds tentative. "What happened before I got back?"</p><p>"It was partly a doctor's visit, complete with scolding about not getting regular check-ups," Kurt says. "And it was partly her grilling a prospective suitor."</p><p>Blaine flushes. "Sorry about that," he says. "My mom can be a little intense."</p><p>Kurt sits down in the kitchen chair. The adrenaline is seeping back out of him, and he is suddenly exhausted. "It was fine," he says. "It was kind of sweet." And just as he says that, he remembers a conversation with his father, so long ago, about taking care of his own heart. His chest tightens, and he squeezes his eyes shut.</p><p>"Kurt?" Blaine sounds worried.</p><p>"I..." Kurt can't quite get the words out. "I need a moment." He needs more than a moment, but the groceries are still sitting out in the kitchen and the living room feels too public and all he wants is to disappear into someplace quiet, alone.</p><p>Some of that must show on his face. Or maybe Kurt is singing something inside his head. But Blaine touches his shoulder gently, and says, "Do you want to go into my room for a while?" Kurt looks up at him, surprised. "By yourself, I mean. I was going to start marinating something to cook for dinner, anyway."</p><p>Kurt sighs. "Yes." He wants to say something more, something appropriate and polite, but he just can't manage it.</p><p>"Come on." Blaine offers Kurt his arm to lean on, even though Kurt has been moving fairly well on his own.</p><p>Kurt takes it gratefully, and hobbles across the living room and through Blaine's bedroom door.</p><p>Blaine helps him get seated on the bed, and then heads out the door. "I'll close this," he says. "Let me know if you need anything. Ok?" He waits for Kurt's nod, and then leaves.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt sits on Blaine's bed and just tries to breathe. But there's an emptiness, a space that he manages to forget about most days of the year. A space that used to be filled by a gruff voice and a warm hug and a continuous feeling of exasperation, <em>why won't you eat right, dad</em> and <em>no, don't wear those colors together</em>. And then Kurt can't take it anymore, and he bends forward, sobbing, grabbing something soft from the bed and burying his face in it.</p><p>He might have been sitting there for half an hour. Maybe an hour. Maybe for ten years. Who knows. Once, Kurt tried to explain what he had learned about relativity in his physics class to his father, and when they were done, neither one was sure which twin would get older in that thought experiment, and sometimes time without his dad was like that, speeding by and then slowing down, like the night he had flown back to Lima and found that his father had gone into a coma while Kurt was on the plane.</p><p>He bends forward into the soft thing again, but nothing comes out. He's cried himself dry. And then he hears a voice outside the door.</p><p>
  <em>I'll </em>
  <br/>
  <em>tell you something<br/>I think you'll understand<br/>Then I'll</em>
  <br/>
  <em>say that something<br/>I wanna hold your hand</em>
</p><p>Blaine is singing, somewhere outside the door. It can't be too far away - his voice is soft, but Kurt can hear him clearly. Or maybe that's because the singing is in Kurt's head. Kurt lifts his head from the soft thing. It's... some kind of stuffed bear? And it's soaking wet. Kurt shakes his head at himself, sets it aside, and goes to open the door.</p><p>Blaine is just outside, setting a plate of cookies on the floor. He jumps back when the door opens.</p><p>"I'm not sure I can bend down to pick those up," Kurt tries to joke.</p><p>Blaine just leans down, grabs the plate, and hands it to Kurt. "I don't know if you are into comfort food," he says. "But I thought maybe you could use some of these."</p><p>Kurt breathes in the smell. Chocolate chip. They smell delicious. Nothing like the first time his dad tried to bake cookies, after his mom died, and the cookies burned and they tried to eat them anyway and...</p><p>Blaine grabs him by the arm and guides him back to the bed. "Sorry," he says. "I guess cookies were the wrong thing to make."</p><p>Kurt shakes his head. "No. It's fine. It's sweet." He picks one up and puts it in his mouth. It isn't burned. It's absolutely perfect, still warm and soft. He lets it sit in his mouth for a moment, then chews it and swallows. "Thank you."</p><p>"No problem," Blaine replies. "You can keep the cookies in here, and I'll go. I didn't mean to disturb you."</p><p>"You were singing," Kurt says.</p><p>Blaine nods. "I was trying to be quiet about it," he says. "I just heard you, and... Well."</p><p>Kurt picks up another cookie. "It wasn't your usual style."</p><p>Blaine bites his lip. "Kurt..." He hesitates. "I need to tell you something. Something I should have said a long time ago."</p><p>Kurt's mouth is full of cookie, so he just makes a gesture to try to say <em>go ahead</em>.</p><p>"Do you remember how I told you that I first heard you singing at a club, after callbacks for the show that Rachel and I were in?" Blaine looks at him.</p><p>Kurt nods.</p><p>"Well... that wasn't actually the first time I heard you." He pauses. "The first time was a few years ago, at a different club. I had just gotten through a really messy breakup, and was out with some friends to try to get over it. And then, suddenly, there you were. Singing. Singing this slow version of <em>I Want to Hold Your Hand</em>." Blaine grimaces. "I think I ugly-cried for like a half an hour when I heard it. My friends thought I was crying over the breakup. But. Well. It was the song. Part of me wanted to find you, afterwards. But I convinced myself that my friends were right, that I just was a mess. That my reaction was just a rebound obsession. But when I saw you singing <em>Blackbird</em> this year, I remembered. And I realized that I had been looking for you all along."</p><p>Kurt picks up the sodden bear and looks at it. "The first time I sang that song, my dad was in the hospital in a coma." He tries to wipe some of the dampness from the bear, but it won't come off. "I was remembering how he took care of me after my mother died." He turns the bear upside-down, but it doesn't help. "The last time I sang it... was at his memorial service. After he died of prostate cancer, my first year in New York." He finally puts the bear aside. "I wish he could have met you," he says. "And I'm really sorry that I got your bear so wet."</p><p>"Kurt." Blaine sits beside him. "If there is anything of mine that you want to cry on... please. Go ahead." He looks at Kurt's hands. They are twisting each other, now that the bear is gone. "And I wish I could have met him, too."</p><p>"He would have given you the third degree, you know," Kurt says. "Even worse than your mother. Asked you about your plans for your life, and your favorite sports teams, and threatened to kill you if you hurt me." Kurt shakes his head. "And then he would have asked me what to get you for Christmas, and invited you to Friday dinners, and thanked you."</p><p>"For taking care of you after getting hit by a car?" Blaine asks.</p><p>"For making me happy." Kurt squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe he isn't out of tears, after all. "He always wanted to see me happy."</p><p>Kurt doesn't open his eyes, but he feels Blaine wrap an arm around his shoulder, and leans in and presses his face against Blaine's shoulder. It's warm, and Blaine's shirt is soft and smells like aftershave and hair gel and <em>Blaine</em>.</p><p>And Kurt cries until Blaine's shoulder is as wet as the bear.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Where he started to freak, yeah</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A proposition. A couple different ones, actually.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>Lady Marmalade (Patti LaBelle: https://youtu.be/t4LWIP7SAjY) (though Kurt and Blaine probably like the version in Moulin Rouge)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurt has been living in Blaine's apartment for six weeks now. He still walks slowly, but he's seen a doctor and been referred to a physical therapist and he even got to an appointment by riding the subway, with Rachel and Blaine both standing beside him and fending off the crowds. He has exercises to do, bending his knee and lifting his arm. He's still sleeping on the couch, lying back on the big triangular bolster, hugging Blaine's stuffed bear until he falls back to sleep after taking his midnight painkiller dose.</p><p>And he's been telling Blaine stories from high school and before, little by little, while helping him cook. Kurt still gets tired if he stands for too long, but Blaine can stand at the stove and Kurt can chop vegetables and they can talk, or Blaine can sing while Kurt harmonizes in his mind. It's comfortably domestic, and they alternate those moments with times when Blaine goes out to practice with his band or to record another voiceover for a commercial, and Kurt stays behind to write his columns for Vogue.</p><p>One day, Kurt comes out of the shower to discover that Blaine has been cleaning. Or something. At least, Kurt's nest of pillows and blankets is gone from the couch. And so is the big triangular pillow. Kurt just gets out of the way of the vacuum and takes his laptop into the kitchen to write. When Blaine is done, he settles into the chair with his guitar and his notebook, and Kurt stays in the kitchen to write, so he doesn't disturb Blaine's creative process. And then they make a stir-fry and eat it at the table, and Blaine even sings a little bit of his new song for Kurt to critique. Afterwards, they snuggle on the couch and watch an old French movie, in black-and-white, challenging each other to translate it without looking at the subtitles.</p><p>Finally, the credits roll, and Kurt yawns. "I should get that bolster," he murmurs.</p><p>Blaine tilts his head and eyes him carefully.</p><p><em>Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? </em> <em><br/>Voulez vous coucher avec moi?<br/>Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?<br/>Voulez vous coucher avec moi?</em></p><p>He stands up and dances, wriggling his hips suggestively.</p><p>Kurt raises an eyebrow. "<em>Mais oui,</em>" he grins.</p><p>"In my bed?" Blaine asks. In English. So there can't be any mistaking what he's saying. "I mean, you've been lying down to do some of your exercises, so it looks like your back isn't hurting so much, and..."</p><p>"Yes." Kurt's answer is breathier than he intends, but so what.</p><p>Blaine's eyes light up as he holds out a hand to help Kurt get to his feet. Kurt doesn't really need it anymore, but the touch is welcome. There might even be sparks coming off of their hands. Or maybe Blaine has just been rubbing his feet on the carpet while he was dancing. It doesn't matter. It is sexy as hell, and Kurt happily walks across the room, not releasing Blaine's hand even though it's a little awkward going around the couch and through the doorway like that. Blaine does a silly bow in front of his bed, and Kurt sits on the edge.</p><p>"I want to have sex," Blaine says. He sounds kind of shy.</p><p>Kurt blinks. "Of course," he says.</p><p>"I mean..." Blaine pauses. "Penetration. I've got condoms, and lube, and..."</p><p>"Yes," Kurt cuts him off.</p><p>"Do you prefer being the top, or the bottom?" Blaine asks. "Because I'm happy with either..."</p><p>"I've done both," Kurt replies.</p><p>"I don't want to do anything too acrobatic, you're still healing, if anything hurts please tell me to stop..." Blaine pauses. "I was thinking, maybe the best position would be if you topped from the bottom?" Damn, Blaine is cute when he is flustered. Usually Kurt is the one who stammers.</p><p>"I think that would be wonderful." Kurt pushes himself back to his feet and takes the bottom of Blaine's sweater. "May I?"</p><p>Blaine nods and lifts his arms. And Kurt's right arm is finally flexible enough to push up all the way, though Blaine helps to get it over his head. And then Blaine slowly unbuttons Kurt's shirt and slips it off, first off the good arm, then the one that was hurt. And then they're on to the pants, Blaine bending to pull Kurt's skinny jeans over his hurt knee and still-bruised leg, then climbing onto the bed to make it easier for Kurt to push Blaine's pants down.</p><p>They get up to fold the blankets down before removing their underwear. Blaine rearranges some pillows so that Kurt's head and back can be propped up, then rummages in a drawer. He comes up holding a condom and lube, then sets the condom on the nightstand.</p><p>"Ready?" Blaine asks, screwing the cap off of the lube.</p><p>Kurt holds out his left hand. "I should be asking you that."</p><p>Blaine's eyes are unusually dark. "I've been ready for a long time."</p><p>And Kurt doesn't know how to answer that, so he just squeezes a bit of lube onto his hand. Blaine settles onto the bed beside him, ass carefully placed within easy reach of Kurt's good hand. Kurt slides his hand around, exploring, and then slips a finger in. Blaine pushes back with a little moan.</p><p>"I take it that's good," Kurt whispers.</p><p>"Yes," Blaine moans. "More. Please."</p><p>And Kurt obliges, adding one finger at a time, carefully probing and stretching until Blaine murmurs that he is ready and pulls temporarily away. He only goes far enough to reach the condom, then carefully unrolls it onto Kurt's cock. Kurt's eyes slide shut for a moment at the touch, and then feels Blaine's hand sliding lube along him.</p><p>"Ok?" Blaine asks.</p><p>Kurt nods, and Blaine gets onto his knees, straddles Kurt's hips, and slowly lowers himself. There's a bit of resistance, and Kurt has to restrain himself from thrusting up as Blaine presses down. And then Kurt is surrounded, and he reaches out to stroke Blaine's cock as Blaine rocks above him, changing the angle until it's just right and Kurt can't help but start to buck upwards, back and knee be damned, Blaine is tight around him and it feels so good and then Kurt squeezes his eyes shut and releases. It only takes a few quick strokes before Blaine comes, as well, spurting warmth onto Kurt's belly.</p><p>They still for a moment, and then Blaine pulls himself off of Kurt and collapses beside him. They lie there, looking at each other, until Kurt reaches down to slide the condom off.</p><p>"I'll do that," Blaine says.</p><p>"It's my good hand," Kurt argues.</p><p>Blaine hands him a cloth. "You can clean me up," he says.</p><p>So they do, taking turns dabbing at each other, then alternating cleanup with little kisses, until it seems like they might let the semen dry on each other. And that wouldn't be comfortable, so Blaine gets up and brings another wet cloth in, and they finish cleaning, then pull on their underwear. And then Blaine puts on an undershirt and shorts, and Kurt slides into his pajamas, and they arrange the pillows and Kurt's triangular bolster and pull up the sheet and blankets and then they are in bed. Together.</p><p>Kurt props himself on the bolster, not quite ready to be horizontal while he sleeps. Blaine curls up beside him, pillow wedged against Kurt's chest, and drapes an arm across Kurt's waist. It isn't long before the slow breaths turn into soft snores.</p><p>*</p><p>There is already light coming in through the window when Kurt wakes up. His back is a little sore, but not too bad, considering that he went through the entire night without painkillers. Blaine has rolled off of him and is sprawled on his back. His hair is a beautiful disaster, and Kurt just lies there, watching and smiling.</p><p>And then Kurt's back twinges, and he decides that maybe going for nine hours without pain relief is still a bad idea, even if they managed sex without any acrobatics. So he slips out from under the covers and pads into the kitchen to find some ibuprofen and a glass of water.</p><p>Blaine is awake when Kurt gets back.</p><p>"Hey," Kurt says.</p><p>"Hey," Blaine smiles. "Did you sleep ok?"</p><p>"Like a baby," Kurt says. "Or maybe not a baby. That would actually be disturbing. Like a man who just had such gloriously beautiful sex that he forgot that his ribs were broken."</p><p>Blaine smiles up at him. "And how are the ribs feeling?"</p><p>"A little sore," Kurt admits. "Just because I skipped my midnight drugs. Not from the sex."</p><p>"Do they feel good enough to come back to bed?" Blaine asks. "Because I have fantasies about waking up to a kiss."</p><p>Kurt doesn't need any persuading. He crawls back under the covers, leans over to kiss Blaine, and settles back against the bolster. Blaine rolls onto his side and props himself on an elbow. Kurt smiles down at him.</p><p>"I'm not asking for another round," Blaine says. "I just want to lie here and look at you, and then I want to get up and make two omelets and feed one to you in bed."</p><p>"I can handle my own silverware," Kurt argues. "And being fed would be messy. And would remind me of the hospital."</p><p>"Then I certainly wouldn't feed you," Blaine says. "And I wouldn't even bring you breakfast in bed, if that would bring back awful memories."</p><p>Kurt reaches across his body until he finds Blaine's hand, splayed on his chest. He laces his fingers with Blaine's. "I think breakfast in bed would be overdoing it," he says. "But I am happy to just lie here for a while."</p><p>"That will do," Blaine agrees.</p><p>They fall back to sleep, even though the sun keeps creeping higher and shines in Kurt's eyes.</p><p>*</p><p>"I slept in a bed," Kurt says. He kissed Blaine awake the second time, which led to wandering hands, which led to a slow, mutual hand-job. And now they are lying back, resting, after cleaning up.</p><p>Blaine gives him a look that manages to say <em>is that all?</em> without words. Or music. Or even sign language.</p><p>"And had sex," Kurt concedes. "Glorious, pain-free sex."</p><p>"What do they call that in your business?" Blaine asks. "Burying the lede?"</p><p>"I don't know," Kurt says. "I was more worried about sleeping through the night in a bed than anything else." He smirks at Blaine's pout. "I fantasized about the sex. But I worried about the sleeping."</p><p>Blaine lies back, looking slightly mollified.</p><p>"So now I know I can sleep in a bed, walk up stairs, and ride the subway," Kurt continues. "I could go back to Bushwick."</p><p>Blaine sits up. "Kurt," he says. "I love you."</p><p>Kurt smiles at him.</p><p>But Blaine frowns. "That's the first time I've said that."</p><p>"No, it isn't," Kurt replies. "You've been saying it for two months. You even sang it to me at Tina's wedding. That song from some old TV show, about<em> I think I love you</em>..."</p><p>"Those were lyrics," Blaine says. "These are my words. My own words."</p><p>"But so were the lyrics," Kurt argues. Blaine looks hurt, and Kurt suddenly realizes his mis-step. "I mean... I love you, too."</p><p>Blaine bites his lip. "Kurt," he says. "I love you. And I want you to stay. Here. With me."</p><p>"In bed?" Kurt laughs. "Making it through the night is one thing, but staying horizontal all day..."</p><p>"In my apartment," Blaine interrupts.</p><p>Kurt blinks. It doesn't sound like Blaine is referring to more of the invalid couch-surfing that Kurt has been doing for the past six weeks.</p><p>Blaine just keeps watching at him, a worried look in those fascinating eyes.</p><p>"Blaine, I've got an apartment of my own. I've got a ROOMMATE, I can't just leave Rachel..." Kurt sputters.</p><p>Blaine sighs and looks away. Oh, crap. Blaine's mother was right, Blaine really does fall hard and fast, Kurt promised to take care of Blaine's heart, he just didn't think he'd have to keep the promise so SOON.</p><p>"Blaine." Kurt struggles to sit up straighter. "I do love you. Just... let me talk to Rachel, ok?"</p><p>Blaine finally nods.</p><p>It isn't until Kurt is in the shower that he realizes that was the first time he has ever said <em>I love you</em> to a romantic partner.</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt meets Rachel in her favorite coffee shop. Blaine comes along, to make sure that Kurt gets there without trouble, because yeah, Kurt is still moving slowly, and it's easy to get jostled on the street and in the subway. But when he's got Kurt settled at a table and has ordered Kurt's and Rachel's coffees, he leaves. The song in Blaine's head is just a quiet, worried hum, without any words. Kurt isn't sure what to do about it. Which means it is a relief when Rachel flies in, running late, and kisses him on the cheek, and rushes off to pick up their coffee order. She brings it back, sets Kurt's in front of him, and takes a sip of her skinny soy latte.</p><p>"So?" she asks. "Why did you need to meet with me? And where did Blaine go?" She suddenly looks worried. "You didn't break up with him, did you?"</p><p>"No, of course not," Kurt shakes his head. "Actually, we slept together. In his bed."</p><p>Rachel squeals and claps her hands.</p><p>"Don't tell me you won the pool," Kurt glares at her.</p><p>"It was just for bragging rights," Rachel defends herself. "And mostly I'm just happy for you. So is that your news?"</p><p>Kurt shakes his head. "Blaine wants me to move in with him," he says. "Permanently." He waits for a response, but Rachel is uncharacteristically hard to read. "It's really fast, I know. I mean, he's hot and he's nice and I love the way he took care of me after the accident. But. He wants me to move in with him."</p><p>Rachel finally shrugs. "It's really sweet."</p><p>Kurt shakes his head at her. "Rachel. I haven't even dated anyone in years, and then I get hit by a car and suddenly I'm considering co-habitating?"</p><p>She just shrugs again.</p><p>"And I can't just leave you alone in Bushwick, I know your dads will help you with the rent if you need it, but I'm not just going to abandon you because some hottie wants to live with me..."</p><p>Rachel has a weird look on her face. She looks... guilty?</p><p>"RACHEL," Kurt says. "What."</p><p>"I... have actually been seeing someone," Rachel admits.</p><p>Kurt stares at her. "What, that intern from the hospital? Because that would be a great meet-cute, but also a little weird, and Westchester County is really far away."</p><p>Rachel winces. "I've actually been seeing this guy for a year."</p><p>"WHAT?" Kurt shakes his head.</p><p>"I should have told you, I know I should have told you. It's just... I felt guilty, dating, after all this time we've been watching out for each other, and you didn't seem ready to start seeing people, and I didn't want to freak you out..." Rachel doesn't seem like she's ever going to stop talking.</p><p>"Yes," Kurt says. "You should have told me. But now you need to give me details." He waits for a moment. "Name?"</p><p>Rachel squeezes her eyes shut. "Jesse...?"</p><p>There are probably thousands of Jesses in the world. Maybe millions. But from the way Rachel is acting, there's only one likely candidate. "St. James? Are you fucking kidding?"</p><p>Rachel winces. "Not kidding."</p><p>"THE Jesse St. James. The guy who threw eggs at you. Rachel..."</p><p>"He's grown up a lot since then." Rachel tries to defend her taste.</p><p>"Jesse St. James. The creep from Vocal Adrenaline." Kurt shakes his head. And then stops. "Wait. Rachel, did you set me up with a Warbler because you were feeling guilty about dating the creep from Vocal Adrenaline?"</p><p>Rachel glares at him. "ONE. I did NOT set you up with Blaine. HE was interested in YOU, and I actually tried to protect your privacy even when he wanted to know everything about you. And you KNOW how hard it is for me to keep from talking. So do NOT accuse me of setting you up." She waggles a finger at him. "And as far as I can tell, it is working out beautifully, so maybe I SHOULD take credit for setting you up."</p><p>Kurt sits back.</p><p>"And TWO. Do not refer to Jesse as <em>that creep from Vocal Adrenaline</em>."</p><p>Kurt shakes his head at her. "I'm not backing off on that one," he insists. "What would Finn say?"</p><p>Rachel glares at him. "Finn's dead, Kurt," she says. "It's been nine years. And maybe neither of us will ever stop grieving, but there's this stage that they call <em>acceptance</em>. And maybe I'm there. And maybe I'm finally ready to start living my life." She pauses. "And you should, too. Jesse asked me to move in with him, and I've been hesitating because you were hurt and I didn't want to leave you to live alone. But if you're going to move in with Blaine..." She shrugs. "Maybe everything will work out perfectly."</p><p>Kurt isn't quite sure. But at this point, he doesn't have any excuses except his own fears.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. I'll sing you a new song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>De-cluttering.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>My Shot (Hamilton)<br/>Blackbird<br/>Hold Me Now (Thompson Twins: https://youtu.be/H9694K85Xc8)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blaine went to run errands while Kurt was getting coffee, so Rachel makes sure that Kurt gets back to Blaine's place safely. She leaves him at the door, with a kiss on the cheek and an excited look at Blaine. And then Kurt is home. Home? He still isn't sure how he feels about it.</p><p>And Blaine can tell. But he waits, and the nervous hum inside him gets more chaotic and dissonant.</p><p>"Rachel wants to move out of the apartment in Bushwick," Kurt says. It's abrupt, but what else is there to say? "It turns out that she has a secret boyfriend."</p><p>Blaine frowns. "Secret?"</p><p>Kurt blinks. "You knew?"</p><p>"She sings about him in her head," Blaine shrugs. "All the time. You haven't heard it?"</p><p>Kurt shakes his head. "I learned how to ignore Rachel when she sings. A long time ago. A very long time ago. And apparently some of the singing was entirely inside her head, and I never even realized it."</p><p>Blaine tilts his head. "You ignore the singing?" he asks. "Why? I mean, the whole world sings... it's amazing."</p><p>"Because... some of it is awful?" Kurt grimaces. "Because it's overwhelming, being bombarded with everyone's inner playlists? Shutting things out keeps me sane. I can hear, but I usually don't want to listen." He watches Blaine's face fall, and rushes in before Blaine can go into one of his spirals. "Until you showed up. And I can't... I WON'T... stop listening to you. In my head or out loud. Ok?"</p><p>Blaine breathes in three times, then nods.</p><p>Kurt reaches for Blaine's hand and squeezes it. Blaine squeezes back. When it's clear that Blaine is ok, Kurt continues with the point of the whole conversation. "Rachel and I just paid this month's rent, and our lease goes through August. But we can probably give notice before the end of this month, if we want." He pauses. "I've got a lot of stuff that I'll need to deal with. Maybe more than Rachel has. So it might take more than a month."</p><p>Blaine's hand doesn't move.</p><p>"So what I'm saying is... I can move in with you." Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand again.</p><p>Blaine looks at him. "Way to bury the emotional lede again there, Kurt."</p><p>"Sorry. I keep doing that." Kurt makes a face. "I don't mean to."</p><p>Blaine nods, then pulls Kurt into a hug. "I'll start making space for your stuff."</p><p>*</p><p>Blaine takes on the challenge of consolidating his stuff as if Marie Kondo is following him around and asking if things spark joy. By the end of the week, he has taken a box of books to a used bookstore and put a huge collection of bow ties for sale online. Kurt finally stops him when it looks like he is going to give away a pile of primary-colored clothes. It's true, Blaine doesn't wear them, but, well... Kurt has seen Blaine's underwear. And he suspects that Blaine is fonder of bright things than he is willing to admit in public.</p><p>And then, when they check with Rachel to find a good time to go out to Bushwick and sort through Kurt's belongings, they get a surprise invitation. Rachel's show - which used to be Blaine's show - is about to have its first previews. And Blaine and Kurt are invited.</p><p>It's Kurt's first big outing since the accident. And he wants to go shopping. But it's still tiring to be on his feet for a long time, and finally Blaine and Isabelle talk him out of it. (How does Blaine know Isabelle? Kurt isn't sure, but it seems like there is some definite colluding going on. Especially when Isabelle offers to let Blaine visit the office and look for some cast-offs that aren't going to make it into Vogue's vault.) All of this means that he's going to let Blaine dress him, which is a bit nerve-wracking. Not because Kurt doesn't trust Blaine, but because Kurt doesn't trust himself. Or, rather, he doesn't trust his acid-tongued fashion-writing snark.</p><p>But it turns out that the worrying is unnecessary. The suit is simple and classy, dark grey with a blue-green brocade vest. <em>It matches your eyes,</em> Blaine points out, and Kurt can't help but (literally) squeak at the sheer romance of it all. Kurt isn't even embarrassed by the inelegant noise that he makes; the way that Blaine's eyes light up offsets it.</p><p>They slide into seats near the back, out of view of the press, and settle in. It's delightful, especially because Blaine sings along in his head, holding Kurt's hand the entire time. Rachel is brilliant, too, which makes the entire show a success, in Kurt's mind.</p><p>Kurt and Blaine are invited to the afterparty with the cast and crew. Blaine keeps one hand wrapped around Kurt's, which means that the hugs from his former castmates end up being awkward, one-armed affairs. Kurt isn't sure what's going on until he sees the male lead checking him out. But it's the director who corners the two of them.</p><p>"So this is the man who stole Blaine away from our show," the director jokes.</p><p>"It isn't stealing when something is freely given," Blaine replies. And it is utterly cheesy, and adorable. Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand in thanks.</p><p>"Are you open to auditioning for other roles now?" The question comes from a man that Kurt doesn't know, but who seems to be a friend - or more - of the director.</p><p>Blaine looks at Kurt first. Kurt gives him a look that says <em>don't be crazy, say yes</em>. (In his head, Kurt sings a bit of <em>My Shot</em> from Hamilton. Just in case the look doesn't send a clear enough message.) Then Blaine turns back to the man. "Yes. What is the part?"</p><p>They start talking about the planned show, and it sounds amazing. Kurt just sips his Diet Coke and nibbles on crostini and listens. But the conversation doesn't last long before Blaine shares his contact information and excuses them.</p><p>"You look tired," Blaine explains as they head out to hail a taxi.</p><p>Kurt is tired, it's true. But still... "I can't wait to see you in that," he says. "I can't wait to watch you on the stage. And I'm glad that I won't go down in history as the guy who kept Blaine Anderson off of Broadway."</p><p>"I still need to get the part," Blaine reminds him. But he's smiling, and when they get in the back of the taxi, they snuggle all the way home to Blaine's apartment.</p><p>*</p><p>It takes several days before Kurt and Blaine make their way out to Bushwick for the Great Decluttering of Kurt's former life. Rachel is staying at Jesse's place, so they'll have the apartment to themselves. And they will probably need it. Kurt doesn't even remember what he has stored out there.</p><p>"Oh. My. God." Kurt holds up a plastic container of... something. They started in the kitchen, mostly because of the smells coming from the refrigerator. "I have no idea what this used to be."</p><p>"It looks like it's been there a long time," Blaine agrees, holding out the garbage bag.</p><p>"Probably since before I went into the hospital," Kurt grumbles. "This, too. Has Rachel even spent the night here since then?"</p><p>"She couldn't possibly have cooked." Blaine squints at the next container. "Was this pasta?"</p><p>"Maybe," Kurt frowns. "But now it's just disgusting."</p><p>"At least these are easy decisions," Blaine says. "Rotting food does NOT spark joy."</p><p>Kurt picks up something in a plastic bag, holds it at arm's length, and drops it in the garbage. "Blaine, if you promise to always clear food out of your refrigerator before it liquifies, I will live with you forever."</p><p>The refrigerator door gets pushed shut as Blaine pins Kurt against it and kisses him. A moment later, Blaine steps away. "Sorry. You just said <em>forever</em>..."</p><p>Kurt grabs him and kisses him back. "You," he says. "How do you turn cleaning a disgusting refrigerator into something romantic?"</p><p>"You started it," Blaine protests. "With the comment about <em>forever</em>. But I don't want to be trapped here <em>forever</em> with this smell, so let's finish this."</p><p>They end up throwing out everything in the refrigerator except the one bottle of white wine, left over from the first night that Blaine had cooked dinner in Bushwick. They agree to keep it, though Blaine is still embarrassed that Kurt heard him singing <em>Cheeseburger in Paradise</em> that evening.</p><p>"You sang <em>I Want You to Want Me</em> the next time," Kurt smirks. "Sliding across the floor on your knees."</p><p>"Well, at least that one was entirely true..." Blaine grins back. But after one more kiss, they need to take the garbage out.</p><p>The next thing on the agenda: Kurt's bedroom. Or the space that contains his bed, some oddly constructed wardrobes, and various boxes, all separated from the rest of the loft by a curtain.</p><p>Blaine looks into the first wardrobe and stares.</p><p>"Yes," Kurt admits. "I have a lot of clothes."</p><p>Blaine shakes his head. "That's an understatement."</p><p>"At least you've already figured out the situation with consignment stores." Kurt starts taking things off of hangers and folding them, separating them into stacks to keep, sell, or give away.</p><p>"Wait." Blaine stops him as he is about to put a shirt onto the pile to be given away. "That one's kind of cute."</p><p>"You said that about the last five things," Kurt grumbles. "<em>Does it spark joy?</em> Remember?"</p><p>"I just think it would look really good on you," Blaine says. "I can't tell if it would <em>spark joy</em> if I've never seen you wear it."</p><p>"Fine." Kurt pulls off his shirt, then tries on the other one. "It's kind of tight."</p><p>Blaine tilts his head. "Is it uncomfortable?" he asks. "Because it's kind of hot."</p><p>Which leads to kissing, and undressing, and an addition to the <em>keep</em> pile.</p><p>Afterwards, the clothes-sorting goes even more slowly. Every item needs to be discussed, and maybe tried on for Blaine to inspect. An hour goes by, and they haven't even made a dent in the first wardrobe. And there is still another one, with more hanging clothes, plus flat boxes for sweaters.</p><p>"I don't think I'm helping much," Blaine finally admits. "Is there something else I can sort through?" He looks around the room. "How about those boxes? What are those?"</p><p>Kurt looks up to see what Blaine is pointing at. "Oh. Those are things that I brought back from Ohio. My step-mom moved into a smaller place after my dad died, and a lot of my old stuff was in boxes. I never went through it." He shrugs. "I should probably just throw it all out."</p><p>Blaine looks at it. "I can take a look, and let you know what's in there." He crosses the room and sits on the floor, then opens the first box. "Umm. What are these?" He holds up a pair of immense silver heels.</p><p>Kurt starts laughing. "I'm not sure I can even start to explain. Just... it involved a performance of <em>Bad Romance</em>."</p><p>"What about this?" Blaine holds up some white hair.</p><p>"I was Riff Raff in a private production of Rocky Horror," Kurt says. "Crap. That box is all the old Glee Club stuff. You don't need to go through it. Everything else is probably paper. Programs from competitions. Photos. Things like that."</p><p>"Now I really want to see." Blaine bends over the box and pulls out some folded paper. "Oh, wow. This is the program from Regionals, the year when you beat us." He opens up the paper and starts reading it. "We competed against you twice that year, didn't we? Because of the weird tie at Sectionals?"</p><p>Kurt nods. "Right. I remember that."</p><p>"We could have met that year," Blaine muses.</p><p>"I nearly went to Dalton to spy on you," Kurt admits. But Finn had cut the mocking conversation short at the last minute, pointing out that Kurt looked upset, and maybe they should just knock it off. And that had led to a showdown between the Glee Club football players and the bullies, and a bunch of suspensions, and an epic threat of a lawsuit driven by Rachel's dads and Artie's mom and two sets of Chang parents. And when it was over, the bully had transferred, and Kurt had settled into a new equilibrium. Still single and rather lonely, but no longer actively threatened.</p><p>"That would have been entertaining," Blaine says, still talking about Kurt's potential spy mission. But then he picks up another piece of paper. "This is all of you at Regionals, isn't it?" he asks. "I recognize most of you from the wedding. Rachel, of course. Tina. Mercedes. Artie. Santana and Brittany. The dancer... Mike? And the blond guy, Sam?" He frowns. "And this guy... I don't remember seeing this guy at the wedding. I would have noticed him. The freakishly tall one, who always sang with Rachel at competitions?"</p><p>Kurt walks over and looks at the photo. "Finn," he says. "He was my step-brother."</p><p>"Whatever happened to him?" Blaine asks. And then he realizes what tense Kurt used. "Was?"</p><p>"He died," Kurt says. He takes the photo out of Blaine's hand and puts it back into the box, then walks back to his bed, sits down, and starts going through his sweaters. He works in silence for a while, until he hears Blaine singing. It's quiet, but out loud.</p><p>
  <em>You were only waiting for this moment to be free...</em>
</p><p>Kurt looks up.</p><p>Blaine notices, and stops. "Sorry. You were singing. In your head. <em>Blackbird</em>. Like the first time I heard you."</p><p>"I planned to sing that at Finn's memorial," Kurt says.</p><p>"Planned?" Blaine asks.</p><p>"I... couldn't." Kurt shrugs. "I tried to sing. And nothing came out."</p><p>Blaine has crossed the room before Kurt can even move, and sits beside him. He reaches for Kurt's hand, but then wraps his arms around Kurt instead. Kurt buries his face in Blaine's neck. It feels wet. Oh. Because Kurt is crying, big, wet, shuddering sobs. Blaine just sits there and rocks him, slowly.</p><p>Finally, Kurt pulls back. "Thank you."</p><p>Blaine eyes him. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks.  "Or not. It's ok."</p><p>And Kurt finds that, yes, actually, he does want to talk. About being the gay-best-friend/step-brother/go-between for all of the relationship drama between Finn and Rachel. About the distance that went along with moving to New York, and being unaware that somehow, Rachel had won custody of Kurt's friendship in the big post-high-school breakup. About the way he had never realized how his father's death affected Finn. "I was the only other man in his family, after my dad died," Kurt says. "And I wasn't there when Finn needed me."</p><p>Blaine rubs Kurt's back, but doesn't say anything.</p><p>"I was so selfish," Kurt says. "Trapped in my own bad hookup drama. I should have been back there."</p><p>Blaine doesn't ask for any more details. He just lets Kurt talk. And that, right now, is enough.</p><p>*</p><p>It's already dark by the time Kurt stops telling stories, and they've barely made a dent in Kurt's belongings. Kurt finally looks at it all and sighs.</p><p>"I don't think you should get rid of this," Blaine says.</p><p>"The box?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"Any of it," Blaine replies.</p><p>"But it doesn't <em>spark joy,</em>" Kurt says drily.</p><p>"Memories can be important," Blaine replies.</p><p>"This is how it starts." Kurt rolls his eyes. "Next thing you know, I'll be on an episode of Hoarders. And besides, there isn't room for all this stuff at your place. And no, I'm not letting you get rid of all your nostalgia just to make space for mine."</p><p>Blaine looks around and hesitates. "What if I moved out here?"</p><p>Kurt blinks. "To Bushwick?"</p><p>"There's more room here than in my place. And you said that Rachel is moving out." Blaine stops and bites his lip. "Unless you don't want me too."</p><p>"That's not it," Kurt says. "It's just... your place is really cute. And convenient. Are you sure you'd rather be out here?"</p><p>Blaine gets up and walks around the loft. "Rachel's room would make a good office space for you," he says. "You could have a desk for your laptop, a comfortable chair to sit at. And there's room out here for more bookcases, and my couch."</p><p>"We could get rid of Rachel's couch," Kurt says. "Because I can't imagine that she'll want to move it."</p><p>"It's a nice place to play guitar," Blaine replies. "If it's ok with Rachel, I would keep it." He looks around again. "I mean, there's even room in here for a piano."</p><p>"You know it's going to take Rachel forever to get moved out," Kurt says. "If she doesn't have a deadline, she'll never get around to it. And I can't imagine that Jesse will be much help." He shakes his head. "They are both insanely talented, but... well. They're kind of flaky."</p><p>"We could take our time," Blaine suggests. "Take turns staying here and at my place. Figure out what works best."</p><p>Kurt looks out the window at the darkening sky. "Want to stay here tonight?" He glances at Blaine. "I know you don't have extra clothes, and maybe you wouldn't want to do the Walk of Shame on the subway tomorrow..."</p><p>"I wouldn't be ashamed," Blaine says. "Though it would be nice to brush my teeth."</p><p>"I've got an unopened toothbrush around here somewhere," Kurt says. "I do, in fact, have a regular dentist. Even if I didn't have a doctor until your mother insisted that I find one." He walks into the bathroom and looks at the shelves. "And I think both Rachel and I both have shampoo in here still." He looks at Blaine's head. "No hair gel, though."</p><p>"I can live without hair gel," Blaine says.</p><p>"I know it's early..." Kurt starts. "But would you like to take a shower now?"</p><p>The apartment has a separate shower and huge tub. Kurt finds some towels, and lets Blaine sniff all the shampoo bottles, then goes to look for some spare pajamas. When he gets back, Blaine is already in the shower. Singing, of course. Kurt can see him through the crack in the curtain, water already dripping down his chest. Kurt watches for a few moments, and then starts stripping off his clothes for a bath. But then he changes his mind and slips into the shower, instead.</p><p>"Hello..." Blaine grins.</p><p>"Hi," Kurt breathes. "I've been wanting to do this." He puts shampoo on his hand. "May I?"</p><p>If Blaine had expected a little shower masturbation, he was going to be disappointed, because Kurt starts rubbing the shampoo into Blaine's hair.</p><p>Blaine laughs.</p><p>"What?" Kurt asks.</p><p>"You are totally singing <em>I'm going to wash that gel right out of your hair</em>," Blaine says. "And I'm not sure if I should be turned on or disappointed."</p><p>"You should be turned on," Kurt whispers. He nudges Blaines head back into the spray and kisses Blaine's neck. "And now, I'm going to sit in the bath and soak my back."</p><p>It takes a while to fill the tub with hot water, so Kurt hasn't been sitting in it very long when Blaine steps out of the shower. Kurt gives him a suggestive look.</p><p>"You think the tub is that big?" Blaine asks.</p><p>"Can't hurt to try it," Kurt replies.</p><p>So Blaine steps in, and settles back against Kurt's chest. They just sit, and soak, and Kurt wraps Blaine's curls around his fingers.</p><p>Finally, the water starts to get cold, and Kurt's fingers start turning in to prunes. So they climb out, carefully, and help each other into towels. And then Kurt picks up the pajamas. Blaine looks at them, then pulls on the pants.</p><p>"Commando?" Kurt looks amused.</p><p>"I'll rinse out my underwear so I can wear it tomorrow," Blaine shrugs. He looks down at the legs, then bends to roll them up.</p><p>Kurt grins and pulls on his own pajamas. "This feels like a sleepover," he admits.</p><p>Blaine raises his eyebrows. "Then maybe we should go to bed."</p><p>They grab all the pillows from Rachel's bed first. After all, she's not there. And Kurt is still sleeping propped up. And then they fold back the covers and climb in. Blaine already has his hand around Kurt's waist, sliding lower, when Kurt remembers something.</p><p>"I don't have condoms." Kurt wrinkles his nose. "Or at least, I don't have condoms that are less than nine years old."</p><p>They end up just using their hands, and then cuddling together in the middle of the bed. Blaine is nuzzling Kurt's shoulder when he stops. And listens.</p><p><em>Hold me now </em><br/><em>whoa</em> <em><br/>Warm my heart</em><br/><em>Stay with me</em><br/><em>Let loving start</em><br/><em>Let loving start</em></p><p>Kurt looks at him. "What?"</p><p>"You're singing 80s pop," Blaine says. "Out loud."</p><p>And Kurt suddenly realizes that Blaine's right. "Sorry," he says. "I'm probably out of tune..."</p><p>"Don't stop," Blaine murmurs. And then he starts to harmonize.</p><p>So Kurt keeps singing. And when he's done, he starts another song. And they sing ridiculous sappy love songs to each other, mostly out loud, but sometimes in their heads when they decide they need to kiss, until finally they fall asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kind of an epilogue.</p><p>And end. And a beginning.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soundtrack:</p><p>Washing Dishes (Jack Johnson: https://youtu.be/2mfRNTFYFQc)<br/>All of Me (John Legend: https://youtu.be/450p7goxZqg)<br/>Come What May (Moulin Rouge)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It takes six months before they finally, officially, move in together. For most of that time, they alternate nights between Bushwick and Blaine's apartment. Occasionally, they each stay in their own place. The first time is after their first serious fight, which, at the time, seems overwhelmingly awful. But the next day, they run into each other at the subway station where they are transferring, each one hurrying to see the other. (When you are rushing through a subway station, it helps to be able to hear your boyfriend's voice singing about missing you. Kurt just followed the song, and Blaine was there.)</p><p>More often, they decide to stay in different places when they want to get work done. One week, Kurt has a deadline that he nearly misses, and needs to just stay in Bushwick, alone, and write. Another time, Blaine's band has a gig in New Jersey, and he gets home insanely late. But after each separation, they meet for coffee and mental duets, like they just plain miss harmonizing with each other. Kurt even starts drinking vanilla lattes again; the sweetness doesn't feel as cloying any more.</p><p>Eventually, they realize that they've already merged their belongings. Kurt has had clothes and hair products at Blaine's apartment ever since the accident. And now, Blaine has his own growing wardrobe in Bushwick. When they discover that Blaine's guitar has been in Bushwick for two weeks, they realize that it is time to just choose one place and be done with it. Otherwise, Blaine will be stuck singing his latest ideas into his phone when he gets inspiration after a long make-out session at the wrong apartment.</p><p>They give up on getting any moving help from Rachel and Jesse, and just borrow Blaine's band's van for a few days. It requires sorting through Rachel's and Kurt's shared nostalgia, but it's an opportunity for Blaine to listen to Kurt's stories. (And if Rachel decides that she needs something to put in the Smithsonian after she is declared a national treasure, well, she can just ask Kurt for it, can't she.)</p><p>A few weeks after they've moved entirely into the Bushwick loft, Blaine hears that he's been cast as the lead in a new, experimental musical. It's risky, but exciting. They get the news while eating at the Spotlight Diner, even though Rachel isn't working there anymore. Blaine spends the entire dinner singing his audition song in his head, while Kurt plans to buy strawberry pie if Blaine doesn't get the part. Afterwards, they get the strawberry pie anyways, to celebrate, and kiss the whipped cream off of each other's faces.</p><p>For Christmas, Blaine surprises Kurt with a pair of framed displays: one of Kurt's history in New Directions, and one about the Warblers. There are fragments of lyrics interspersed with the photos and programs, from songs that might be memorable to the other members of their clubs, but which Kurt and Blaine have secretly sung together, too. It's sweet, and ridiculously sentimental, and it makes Kurt ashamed that all he got Blaine was some recording time at a studio.</p><p>"Your silly love songs are too good to keep secret," Kurt whispers while Blaine kisses him. "Even if it's hot when I'm the only one who hears them." He worries briefly that Blaine is upset when he doesn't come to bed right away, but the next morning, he discovers that Blaine stayed up all night re-working his latest song. The next week, Blaine records it, and sends the demo to someone recommended by Mercedes. That song doesn't go anywhere, but the next one gets sold to a pop diva. Kurt actually starts listening to the radio, just so he can be surprised when it comes on.</p><p>*</p><p>A couple years go by, and they barely notice.</p><p>One Friday night, they wash their dishes while singing, like usual.</p><p><em>When you saw me washing dishes</em> <em><br/>Singing from the bottom<br/>Only the beginning<br/>I'm only getting started</em></p><p>When they're done, Blaine makes popcorn while Kurt flips through their streaming services to find something to watch. By the time the butter is all melted, <em>Moulin Rouge</em> is queued up. And yes, they've watched it before. Ten times? Twenty times? But it doesn't matter, because it's really just an excuse to snuggle up under a blanket on Blaine's couch and feed each other popcorn.</p><p>Blaine's phone buzzes, and Kurt pauses the movie and refills the popcorn bowl while Blaine answers.</p><p>"No," Blaine says. "Thanks for asking me, but not tonight. Yeah, plan something for next weekend and I'll be there. No, I mean it this time." He pauses. "Yeah. Have fun. Bye."</p><p>"What was that all about?" Kurt asks, as he settles back onto the couch and tosses a piece of popcorn in Blaine's direction.</p><p>"Some of the guys in the band are going to a jam session in the Village," Blaine says. "But it's just too late to go there tonight."</p><p>"Right." Kurt picks up his phone. "It's actually... horrors. It's almost eight."</p><p>Blaine reaches for the popcorn. "It feels later than that."</p><p>Kurt picks up the bowl and hands it to him, then wriggles around until Blaine is back under his arm. "That's because we might as well be an old married couple at this point."</p><p>"Yeah, why aren't we?" Blaine asks. He sits up and looks at Kurt.</p><p>Kurt shrugs. "Because neither of us has ever proposed?"</p><p>Blaine tilts his head. "Kurt...?" He climbs off the couch. "Wait. Let me do this right." He digs under a seat cushion until he finds something, then gets onto his knee. "Kurt Hummel. Will you marry me?" He opens his hand and holds out a guitar slide.</p><p>Kurt squints at it. "Is that supposed to be a ring?"</p><p>"It's obviously not actually a ring," Blaine says. "I'll find a real ring later."</p><p>Kurt blinks. "Wait. Are you serious?"</p><p>"Of course I'm serious," Blaine replies. He shakes his head and sings out loud, because that's how they tell each other what they really mean. "<em>What's going on in your beautiful mind...</em>"</p><p>And Kurt realizes that he's burying the emotional lede again. "Yes," he says. "Of course. Yes."</p><p>*</p><p>Kurt stands at the doorway, looking at their entire combined group of family and friends, all dressed up and sitting in formal rows. In a moment, Rachel will start singing, and then one of the Warblers will join in, and then Mercedes, and then everyone else. And he and Blaine will enter from the sides of the room. And then they'll get married.</p><p>Rachel insisted on planning the music, though Blaine had veto power over it all. Kurt was in charge of the decorations, though he didn't have to choose bridesmaids' dresses or boutonnieres for the groomsmen. They don't have a wedding party - after all, Kurt doesn't have any family left alive, and Blaine wants to avoid dealing with divorced parents (and with his overbearing brother). And everyone else will be happy as long as they can sing.</p><p>Blaine looks over at Kurt as they reach the front of the room. The song in Blaine's head is quiet for once, but his eyes say <em>courage.</em> Kurt takes a breath, and the ceremony begins.</p><p>"I understand that there's quite a story to how these two young men met," the officiant begins. "There was another wedding, and a band, and an emergency room?" The audience chuckles. "So the grooms would like me to remind everyone that you all have rooms in this hotel, and when you leave, to please drive carefully, and to look both ways when you cross the street."</p><p>Kurt nods. He can hear Rachel's laugh from behind him.</p><p>"The grooms have written their own vows. Are you ready?" He looks at Kurt.</p><p>Kurt closes his eyes for a second, reaches for Blaine's hands, and then begins. "Before you met me, I was all right." There's a laugh, mostly from the Warblers' side of the room. "Actually, that's not true. I just thought I was. And it took getting hit by a car to learn otherwise." He rolls his eyes, knowing that Rachel and Mercedes are close enough to see. "And Blaine... you brought me to life. You held my hand, and you put my pieces back together, better than they ever had been before. And now I'm looking forward to holding your hands for a very, very long time."</p><p>Blaine's eyes look wet already. "Kurt..." he starts. "You're the one who is good with words. Me? My words always sound silly unless I'm singing them. So..." He glances around and takes a breath. "If you all don't mind, I'm going to sing my vows."</p><p><em>Never knew I could feel like this</em> <em><br/>Like I've never seen the sky before<br/>Want to vanish inside your kiss...</em></p><p>Kurt listens, and waits through the next set of lyrics. And then he closes his eyes again for a second, and joins in.</p><p><em>Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place</em> <em><br/>Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace<br/>Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste<br/>It all revolves around you</em></p><p>He opens his eyes and looks out at the crowd. Rachel covers her mouth in surprise, and then jumps up and down. Mercedes puts her hands over her heart. Artie is doing his usual white-boy praise-hands, and Sam gives Kurt a thumbs-up. Tina is crying, and Brittany makes an upside-down heart sign with her hands. Santana reaches over and fixes Brittany's hands, then makes a heart sign of her own.</p><p>Blaine pulls out a ring. (A real ring, not part of a guitar slide.)</p><p>
  <em>I will love you...</em>
</p><p>Kurt reaches into his pocket and finds the ring that he is carrying.</p><p>
  <em>Come what may...</em>
</p><p>And they slide the rings onto each other's fingers.</p><p>
  <em>Yes I will love you</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Until the end of time</em>
</p><p>They stop singing out loud so they can kiss. But they don't stop singing in their minds.</p><p>They don't ever stop singing in their minds.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I changed the order of some of the lyrics to Come What May, to make sure it ended with the "until the end of time" part instead of the bit about "dying days."</p><p>Also, I didn't remember that Blaine sang "All of Me" in season 5 - I did a google search for "songs for proposals" or something like that, and I was inspired by the John Legend video with Chrissy Teigen, more than by the Glee version. Legend's version embedded itself in my heart and brain. I didn't mean to reference an angsty scene in Glee for the proposal... though I guess Come What May was an angsty scene, too, and I deliberately referenced that for the wedding.</p><p>Maybe I am completely incapable of fluff without a bit of angst or stress... (That's probably why this version of Blaine is a bit of an angst-maven at heart, falling for Kurt's saddest songs, even if he's also the guy who writes silly love songs.)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>When I saw the first two episodes of Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist, I kept imagining the Glee characters in that situation. So I wrote the first few paragraphs of it, and put it aside, because I needed to finish something else, first.</p><p>From the start, I intended to have a snarky, emotionally isolated version of Kurt, and an over-the-top version of Blaine, because that contrast felt amusing. "No Dalton" stories are common, but missing out on romantic love didn't seem enough to isolate Kurt. His relationship with his dad is critical to who Kurt is. So I took that away. Didn't realize how much it would hurt to write it.</p><p>And then I got hit by a car.</p><p>I tried to watch another episode of Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist while I was in the hospital, but it was hard to pay attention to it, between the nurses changing shifts and the brain-fog from pain drugs and the exhaustion of hurting all over. I haven't managed to go back to the show since then. Maybe I'll binge-watch it someday, and then I'll be able to keep track of the characters.</p><p>On the other hand, the whole ambulance/emergency room/hospital stay was easier because I was imagining how fictional characters would deal with the experience. This story grew in my head while I was lying in a hospital bed, or lying awake at home,  trying to decide whether it was time for more Ibuprofen.</p><p>It took a while until I could sit at the computer long enough to write. When I did, the story was different from my original idea: I didn't know how Zoey's experience worked on that show, but I did know what the long recovery from an injury was like.</p><p>This story probably would have been better with a beta, especially to help me with pacing. Maybe I spent too much time on some details, and didn't go into other things deeply enough. I think I rushed the ending. And when I started writing Blaine's part, I realized that some of the hospital story (and the details of Blaine's and Rachel's decisions) didn't make a lot of sense. So apologies for the chaos at the end, and for maybe dropping the emotional ball.</p><p>This story is retold, from Blaine’s POV, in “Blaine’s Lonely Hearts Club Playlist (revised, extended play version)”, which is the second work in this series.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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